Wild Horses
by Tigerdust
Summary: EDIT: Traveling by himself post-Sunnydale crater, Xander finds a reason to think about settling again: Peter Petrelli.  Now if Sylar would just stop being so darn sexy...
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

Guide: telepathic thoughts

Song: _Wild Horses_ by the Rolling Stones

****CHAPTER 1*******

_And wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away_

_Wild, wild horses couldn't pull me away_

Xander's mind hummed with memories as the tune played on the local classic rock radio. His life since Sunnydale had been a roller coaster, but for what it had been worth, it was great to finally be on his own. Sure, the gang had tried to stay together; maybe too long. Tempers got short as more heroes tried to join the Scoobies. Words that weren't meant had been said; passions had flared. Buffy, Xander and Willow all hurt too much to stay together much longer.

Spike, Anya, and Tara had been too much to lose for the trio. Giles had parted first, in his oh so sensible fashion. He had taken a mythology professorship at Georgetown. His students were often interested in the "studies" of Sunnydale. Though the emails had been short; Giles was happy. His students were enthused to learn; he even had an unofficial facebook fan club. Xander smiled; that man's grin would break a young girl's heart someday. He imagined Giles sitting in an upscale coffee shop with a homemade scarf and a hippie-type girlfriend talking him into a trip to Greenwich Village, which he would probably never admit would interest him terribly.

Buffy hadn't lasted long after. Losing her second father, though his departure had been no surprise to the small clique, had sent her into despair. She had relied on the old man and his sarcastic idiosyncrasies. She dove farther and farther into crime fighting; she wouldn't even get a real job anymore. The last letter she had sent told him from the cover she had been incarcerated. Her rage had led to the killing of an innocent. She had gone too far; even she would admit that, but much like Willow's magick, it was an intoxicant.

Buffy couldn't have stopped herself from staking that bank robber, still her favorite weapon of choice, any more than she could have staked Angel. Xander was sure Buffy would handle prison well. Maybe she'd even apply herself and get an associates degree while she was there. She had three years. Xander had promised to keep in touch with her, but he found it less and less likely as time went on.

Willow had decided to stay in California with Kennedy. The pair balanced each other so nicely; Willow had even talked Xander into a morning of yoga before he had left. The two were persuasive and, in his teasing moments, he had called them trouble. But he had begun to sense that he had become the third wheel and after Oz, he didn't want to be that guy again.

He had decided to bow out gracefully. There were many tearful but knowing goodbyes. They promised when they adopted they'd name him the godfather; he teased her that Alex would be a great name for a boy. The same blazing sunset had been on the horizon the evening he had left Palisades for good. Dish washing, bar tending, minor construction gigs just hadn't been enough for Xander. He loved Willow, but he craved something beyond the menial life and rut he had grown into. Sunnydale was gone; he had to move on.

The Greyhound had taken him to Michigan where he had been a fisherman. Amtrak had led him to Louisiana where he had boiled craw fish for about half a year. A Greyhound outside of Austin had sent him to a ring of pawn shops, which had rueful dealings with drug dealers. Xander had roamed and explored many things. This Greyhound's final destination was in Billings. Maybe Montana with it's flat prairies and homespun ways would soothe his roaming beast. Either way, it would be another experience to add to the list. The little town of Prairie Dog, about ten miles south of Billings hosted a lot of promise. Xander wondered if he was close enough to South Dakota to see the huge hunks of presidential heads. He shrugged as he drifted off to sleep; he'd think about that tomorrow.

Xander woke up a bit disoriented and startled. A shaft of morning sun split his eyeball into two earlier than he was accustomed to waking up. However, the mothers of Prairie Dog had been up a while. Below his little window, he could see buns bobbing up and down on tops of heads as they weaved through the town's tiny farmer's market. He could hear the butcher calling out orders and complementing customers. He had a raucous laugh that reminded Xander of hot coffee. His stomach grumbled just thinking of coffee. Xander looked at his meager wallet and possessions scattered all about the dresser. He lived out of the duffel bag he had brought; a picture in frame was the only vibrant piece of memory he had. That, of course, and his precautionary stake. You could never be too careful. The ten that rested next to the mirror was the last ten he had left.

Xander sighed as he brushed the stray black bangs away from his eyeballs and slash from a witch-induced battle in New Orleans. Fortune had him cross paths with a touring Oz back then. For a weekend, they had fought evil like it was the good old days. Xander often mused about how his right eye stayed intact at all. At least it was only noticeable if you squinted or if he laughed really loud. That didn't happen much nowadays anyway. Xander figured this was his next stop; he'd better find a job somewhere around these parts. At least he hoped the good people of Prairie Dog would be honest with him. Xander staggered to his feet and pulled open the drawer. He slid on a simple black t-shirt and headed down the back stairwell of the local Motel 8.

They just seemed to sprout up like garden gnomes every town he was in. He was starting to feel affinity for the glowing yellow 8 sign in the sky. Xander yawned as the haze of the late morning greeted him. The prairie was different from the desert. No dust to make him sneeze like he was putting out a wildfire. He slipped onto the stool closest to the glass doors of the old school diner. Knick-knacks all over the wall proclaimed old Campbell's Soup slogans and explored the wonders of tail-finned Chevy in neon blue. Xander smiled warmly. This was so different from LA. The waitresses all wore that same pale pink and black combo and shuffled about making banter with their usuals, refilling coffee and laughing in mirth. A hurried older gentlemen talked loudly from the little slat that ran between the kitchen and the dining room. He didn't sweat as he cooked and loved making a show of tossing the pancakes into the air.

Xander was lost in thought when Anne materialized before him. His train of thought had made him briefly forget about his hunger as he explored the avenues of Shaggy's topping choices he could recall. The waitress saw a weary traveler. He had strong, chipped hands and lines from age and battles running all along his visible parts. He didn't hunch like the rest of the men and had leapt into the diner as quietly as a cat. His boyish features made him cute though. She coughed quietly and he looked at her, startled. It wasn't every morning Xander was greeted with a nice neck line with a pair of B cups and pulled-back blond hair.

"Morning, stranger. Welcome to Prairie Dog's number one diner."

"Only diner, don't you mean?"

"Well," she chuckled, "that too."

"Got any specials?" I think I'll try my hand at flirting to try and get a job, Xander though. He added a wink onto the end of the question mark.

"I could make our pancake breakfast into a smiley breakfast?" She offered, dissuaded by his unabashed flirting.

He shook his head. "I don't think so. How about a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie? You guys do have apple pie right? Like, at all hours?"

"What do you think this is, Northern Exposure?"A gruff voice had finally appeared in the food service slat. The old man was giving Xander an uncomfortable once-over, probably feeling mutinous toward the city slicker.

"Never mind; I think I'll stick with the pancake breakfast then." He didn't want to mess with the man in charge of his vittles, no sir. Vittles? Xander cocked an internal eyebrow. Did I just think in terms of vittles?

"Question?"

"No, no just thinking to myself. Actually, I do have one. Is there anyone around town in need of a spare hand?"

The cook in the back snorted. "You think you could do our work, city boy?"

Anne looked back toward the opening, slightly annoyed. "Dave, get back to the grill. You don't have any room to talk. You fed the pigs chicken corn once, remember?" Dave just snorted and kept his opinion to himself the rest of the morning.

"Stranger, if work's what you want, you kind find it easy enough. But you've gotta have patience and a nice work ethic like the rest of the folks around here. Think you got that?"

More than you know, Xander though. "Yeah, I don't think that would be a problem."

"Well, you might first want to talk to Zeke. He runs the farmer's market."

Dave rang the little bell that announced Xander's meal was ready and Xander leaned past Anne. "You didn't spit in this did you, Dave?"

"Why? Would you call it the city boy's special if I did?"

Anne tried to reassure him. "Dave's got a sense of humor, but I'm sure it's fine."

Xander poked at his eggs uneasily and then wolfed it down unceremoniously. What doesn't kill me might make me stronger; unless it's a demon's spell to break me into a lucky twin and an unlucky twin, he mused. Ten minutes later Xander was picking over a large barrel of peaches, absentmindedly, trying to get the attention of Zeke, headmaster of fruits and such in the farmer's market. A man a couple of barrels over was sniffing at a green apple when the whole wheelbarrow full of them tumbled over. Xander's quick reflexes saved at least seven of them and Angus looked up, not visibly impressed.

"Thanks," the old ranch hand gave a low grumble. "Seems as though this wheelbarrow gets a little more unsteady each season."

"Why don't you just buy a new one?" Xander often talked without thinking it through with his inner Zeppo first. He would have liked to have, upon further review, just have given an agreeable grunt in return. He really wasn't looking to engage in conversation this early in the morning.

"Who's got that kind of money around here? Certainly not my plot of land and I. All those big companies came in all around us. You wanna go ask them for a loan, boy?"

"I didn't mean to imply anything by it." Xander thought it best to be polite. Old Angus looked as though he could rip the arms out of Xander's sockets. But there was just something familiar enough about him Xander couldn't be sure of.

"Angus, you quit pestering that young'un! You know better."

"Jennie, dear, you know I can't help it_."_ Angus shrugged and glanced over to the elderly African American lady who ran the booth.

"Don't you mind him, son, he's just an old-codger with a toothache." Angus gave her a patronizing look. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"Well ma'am, Anne told me you might be willing to help me. I'm looking to make an honest day's wage so I can survive and keep rolling around the country, or stick around if something suits me." There was no reason to lie. At least not about himself.

"Well, I can't say I could use your help expressly. All I'm doing now in my off season is running the quilting bees. You are welcome to come over and help me can some of the extra fruits I got for sale here at the end of this week, but that's a few days off. Could your farm use another hand, Angus?"

Angus snorted in mutinous contempt at Jennie. He wanted to refuse, but he knew better. He was just a hired hand, but he'd bet his left ear the kid would be hired on. His owner could be too quick to do just that sort of thing. Another reason to not like city folk; he thought it'd be impractical. But the boy wanted to work. Angus shrugged; unsure of what to do.

Angus, he's a hard worker. His past is clouded, but I believe he could be a definite use. A cheery voice rang in his head; it was not his conscience. His conscience wasn't quite so female. He snorted again out loud.

"Well, something tells me if I don't at least bring you back that I'll get a talking to." He sighed. You can start by lugging back all these fruits I've bought from Jennie. Xander nodded gratefully and then picked up a crate of fruit easily. Angus was slightly surprised, but not generally the type to show it.

"Angus Finn, your total is 15.25. Now, that's not on credit. Get over here and fork over some cash, you dirty old man."

"Aw, Jennie, hun, you know that's how you like me." He winked as he forked over the cash and winced as he watched Xander trip over an invisible root and drop two oranges. Angus' mind slowly tacked a fruit dropping tax to the end of Xander's pay. "What did you do that for?"

Xander tried to mumble something but couldn't come up with a convincing enough mumble. He wondered if the man was related to Riley at all, but wouldn't bother to ask unless it came up. He was convinced of two things: One that it wouldn't, and two that he had lost major impression points with his tripping act. He shook his head to himself all the way back to the motel to grab his meager duffel bag of possessions. The two men drove down the silent prairie roads in their own heads.


	2. Chapter 2

_Graceless lady, You know who I am_

_You know I can't let you slide through my hands_

There was absolutely nothing special about the house or the land that surrounded it. As Angus pulled up, Xander didn't even bat an eyelash. Maybe that's what made it unique. It looked so much like everything else. Tire swing in the front yard. Blue shutters and light yellow paint job; Xander approved of the paint work from afar.

Big red barn and nothing but prairie as far as Xander could see. He sighed happily; he'd almost prefer this to Los Angeles any day. If he didn't think about LA, maybe it would all go away. Maybe he would go away. But no, Xander wasn't trying to hide in the middle of this prairie. Maybe he was just trying to find his way home. In any case, Xander noticed a small amount of dust had caked on his duffel from Angus' driving. He had driven a bit too fast, but Xander just dusted it off as Angus snorted.

"Sorry stranger, This ain't city living. You've gotta get used to that dust. You'll be eating, breathing, and living it for as long as you're here." His eyes flashed darkly as he whispered his next words to Xander. "And these folks have been real nice to me and my kin. You disrespect them in any way and I'll whip your hide 'til next Tuesday. You understand?"

Xander nodded and grunted in reply, taking care not to make the same mistake he had with the wheelbarrow earlier in the day. "Now get this stuff unloaded and I'll introduce you to the owner of the house. You'll probably meet his daughter as well," Angus said in a gruff but factual voice.

Xander sighed as he toted his duffel over his shoulder. He plopped his gear on the top step as Angus knocked on the door. Angus just wondered. The young man had quite a bearing of someone closer to Angus' age than his own. He wondered if Xander's movements meant that he was a cocky city slicker or if he had promise. Angus hoped he wouldn't have to go through with his whipping threat.

Xander watched as Angus stumbled a bit back and tried to cover himself by checking the creaking baseboard under which he was standing. Xander wouldn't have survived having missed something like that. He began to wonder if this house might not just be unique after all; Xander's guards went up immediately. He would choose his words very carefully until he knew what was going on.

Why did you use the knocker, Angus? You should have known we'd be in the kitchen.

Well, I thought it might be strange answering myself with the new kid here. You know I wouldn't want anyone putting your crops in jeopardy.

He doesn't fear what he doesn't understand; he's a nice boy Angus.

Nice or not, I don't trust someone half my age who looks like he's been through more than two world wars.

He has lots of promise. Just bring him around to the kitchen.

Yes, little ma'am.

"I don't think they can hear us, blast it, what's your name again? Ah, it doesn't matter. You probably won't stick around long enough; all you city slickers are alike. Come down here for a week to try and make an honest living then go sneaking back to your suburbs and automatic iced tea makers."

Angus was threatening a sneer as he crossed the threshold and Xander just looked skyward. Cynics! When will they learn that things aren't always what they appear? He'd have made a good parent in Sunnydale, the young man thought. I guess he's forgotten the wheelbarrow catch this morning.

"I'm not looking to make trouble, Mr. Finn. Had enough of that to last a lifetime." I doubt he even remembers my name. Xander was proved correct when they entered the kitchen. A pleasant apple and yellow theme had been picked. Apple drapes, apple door pulls, even a red toaster graced the counter of the small kitchen. The fridge was startlingly new and there was a dishwasher next to the sink that Xander was sure hadn't been there before.

"Is the master of the house here, Tara?"

"He's in the next room fiddling with the numbers for this month." The little girl looked up from her floury work on the wooden island and her face changed when she saw Angus. "Must be Tuesday, you're back from the market." Her happiest times seemed to radiate from this very kitchen. Xander would never have guessed she had spent quite a few years in New York living as a cop's daughter. Angus' wrinkles seemed to evaporate as she allowed him to scoop her up in a hug; despite his many back problems.

You know you don't have to bend down like that to hug me.

I know, but I don't mind. Angus didn't lie to Tara. Her brown hair had been tied back into a makeshift ponytail, but she still had to sweep some bangs from her eyes. Her glowing face caught Xander standing in the doorway. Xander wondered for a moment if Tara's angel hadn't wandered into the middle of Homespun America and decided to stay for awhile. There was something about this girl; something that all his experiences labeled "not evil".

"Did you bring me someone to help make these pies, Angus?" Her eyes had a mischievous glint to them as she turned from Xander back to Angus.

"I sure did, ma'am and I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping you at all. In fact, I've come to talk to your dad about that."

You know he'll say yes. I've already asked.

Well, we have to make it official don't we? He doesn't have to know everything right away.

Why are you so embarrassed of us, Angus?

I'm not; I just want you to be safe. You've been good to us. It wasn't until Xander coughed that Angus seemed to leave his trance. Xander knew it wasn't malevolent, but could tell that there was a lot going on beneath the surface of this iceberg. He silently prayed to anyone that would hear him; hoping he wouldn't have to be the Titanic.

"Tara, is Angus back?" A gentleman's voice called from a room off to the left of the kitchen.

"Yes, daddy, and he's brought someone with him."

"I'll be there in a second." Floorboards creaked as William joined his daughter in the floury kitchen. "How those pies coming, kiddo?" It was plain to see from the moment that he scooper her into his arms that William adored little Tara very much. The first image Xander had of him was of a loving father with sincere and somewhat twinkling eyes. He was a little hefty; like a man that lived off the land and enjoyed it, but not too much. Will would say that he had loved being a cop, but he was rewarded so well with Tara that he didn't care what he had to do. All he wanted was to make her happy.

He had kept his white shirts, which got dirty more than he'd like to admit, and short black hair, however, the bags under his eyes had gone on the same evening that the Haitian had erased Mojinder's memory and they'd both left New York for good. Even heroes need a real vacation. Angus had assisted the two in buying the right house and land. Jennie had been a fortunate find; kind and old right from New Orleans. She had shown them herself, along with her granddaughter, how to plant veggies and raise a barn. In a year, the six of them had formed a tight knit little family. Nikki had even joined them when she had found her cure in morning yoga and evening tai chi. Her reconciliation with her son had been the best Fourth of July picnic the town had ever seen. She was happy; he was healthy.

Things had begun to turn out alright for "William" and "Tara". Now it looked as though Xander had joined them, another weary soul on his way to enlightenment. Will reached to take Xander's hand as Tara clung to his neck.

"Very nice to meet you. Angus must have a lot of faith in you to bring you all the way out here to meet us." Again, there was a weird moment where no one spoke until Angus broke the spell with a cough. Xander reserved judgment; hoping that this scene was purely idyllic, but idyllic was purely too tenuous for his mind to wrap around. Xander ran the risk of being paranoid and he knew it.

"Yes, this young man might have the grace of a water buffalo", Xander snorted and got a sidelong glance from William, "but he caught a wheelbarrow as it was tipping over and he seems to think he can put in an honest day's wage for an honest day's pay."

"My name is Xander, sir." This was the first time he bore up to his full height to shake hands with William. He stood tall next to Angus though he was half a foot shorter.

"Well, you look quite stout," William said reassuringly as he took the offered hand. "I have faith in Angus' decision making. We can put you to work and give you room and board each day. Alongside that, I think we could afford to offer you ten dollars a week extra, just in case this is just a temporary stop for you. We get that every now and then."

"And you trust them all?" Xander was dubious. This man didn't look like he could be fooled very easily.

"There's no reason not too. Most unsavory people wouldn't give our town more than a glance and the rest don't last too long. Trust me, if you can't be trusted, we'll know." There was a slight ominous tinge; a subtle turn in the conversation Xander wouldn't have caught before he had met Willow and Buffy. But it didn't bother Xander. He considered it a wise investment in a dark undertow; warning wary travelers of certain real dangers they face. Xander took it all with a certain amount of weariness and a grain or two of salt.

"Well, if you'd like to have me, I think I could stay at least a month on something like that."

"Good, I think we'd like you to stay awhile." Tara looked happily at her father and then back to Xander.

Angus interrupted into the conversation. "I suppose you can start by moving those fruits indoors. I don't reckon they'll last too long in the bed of my Ford."

William nodded. "Yes, please. And afterwards if you want to help M...y Tara finish her pie; I think she'd appreciate an informal interview. And, of course, the family is quite fond of pie around these parts. You might also want to introduce yourself to Peter in the barn and maybe Pastor Jesse might be stopping by this evening. I think you'd like to meet them and get a sense of the townsfolk."

"You're very kind," Xander said without a hint of sarcasm. He'd use sarcasm as a defense and to keep the ball rolling in battle; there was no need for it here. He'd learned how to take his inappropriate gift and channel it; that's how he'd become so good at staking and fighting. At least, that was part of the reason. Angel had finished the training; hesitating in the beginning and approvingly as Xander advanced hungrily through the ranks of technique and quick-footed passion. Xander followed Angus back out through the front and waited for Angus to bring the fruits up to the steps next to his bag.

"I'll be back in two days if you need anything, whelp."

"Thanks for the chance."

"We'll see, boy, we'll see." Angus ignored Xander's proffered hand and went to start his truck, leaving Xander alone to contend with his new temporary family and some dusty fruit. Xander dusted off his jeans and the tops of his shoes on the railing. He hoped his sneakers would be up to the job, but wondered if he'd be able to find some boots out here for the work. He wished he'd actually still been a soldier just for the multipurpose footwear. Xander shrugged as he picked up the two boxes of fruit and began to leave the porch.

Watch out for the creaky plank, Xander. You wouldn't want to trip, would you? The voice was female, but Xander just shrugged it off. It wouldn't be the first time his conscience had spoken like a female. The voice of Willow often rang in his head. Or maybe it was Tara smiling down on him; he hoped so. He walked back inside whistling; feeling a bit gooey and already fond of the quaint little town he had chosen. Or had chosen him; wouldn't be the first time if that had happened.

As luck would have it, Tara was still covered in flour and concentrating when he came back in. He had a good chance to study her features and pronounced her very "Tara like". He hoped if it ever came up she would consider it a great honor. Anyone that knew Tara would have. He was sure of it. He was also slightly surprised that her dad had enough confidence to let her cook alone.

"I'm lucky you came along," she said, as if answering his silent thought. "Dad would've only let me roll out the crust without someone else here to help. I would have had to wait for Jesse or Joyce, that's Jenny's daughter, to stop by to finish. But now, we have you." She looked at him with innocent eyes and he understood why the years seemed to melt from Angus when he saw her. The hope and innocence mingled with her perception and sharp intellect was a killer combo. William would have to fight boys off with a stick when she got to the right age; he was sure of it.

"You gonna use all these apples to make a pie?"

"No, that would be an awfully big pie. I guess I could. Daddy does like his pie quite a bit."

"Hey!" That was all they heard from the office and Xander suppressed a chuckle and a sigh. Kids; why couldn't adults all be as truthful?

"I guess that's a no," she giggled, wrinkling her nose with glee, "Xander, was it? Is that short for Alexander?"

"Yes, but that name's a bit too long for my liking. I prefer people to call me Xander."

But never Alexander. It was that feminine voice again.

"Well Xander," an unfazed little girl with a mission continued, "would you care to chop up some apples for this pie?"

"I think I'd love to, Tara."

"Good; cause that's what we're paying you for."

"You're pretty handy with that apple peel." She noted this after just a few minutes of work.

Xander finished chopping his sixth and final, for now, apple and brought the bowl to the island, set at her level with the help of a knob. "Well, I came from California. Land of the movie stars, asparagus, beaches..." and vampires and hell mouths.

Xander thought he saw her shudder a bit, but let it slide past the register. "Some people in California like to cook. I didn't, but my parents weren't around very often so I learned to do it well. My best friends always loved my cooking."

"What did they like to eat?"

"My doughnuts were there favorite. But they never knew I made them. I bought a whole bunch of those pink boxes to make them look store bought."

Tara felt the great surge of affection and pain at the mention of Xander's friends, but knew it best not to pry. He'd say what he needed to, in time. Tara merely hopped off her stool and came around to Xander's left. She hopped upwards on the counter stool and Xander watched breathlessly as she tried to reach for the sugar and the glass jar came crashing downwards. The hyena in him flew out and dexterously grabbed the sugar by the lid before it spilt while keeping her from falling with his back left leg. Anyone entering the kitchen might have wondered if they'd been playing Pie Twister.

Tara didn't seem outwardly surprised or even seemed to notice. She bounced back with the resiliency of her youth, but sent a message to her father. Xander was more than he seemed. She would be patient and tell the others to be patient as well. She couldn't gage Xander's emotional levels; he hid that too well. As Xander would say: Too many years of living on a hell mouth can do that to ya! Tara coughed as she returned to the pie and mixed the apples in sugar and cinnamon. Xander lifted the door down and Tara set the pie on the rack.

"I'll call you when it dings", she grinned in thanks for all his help. No problem, he silently nodded back. "I think you should go meet Peter."

"I think that would be a splendid idea," Xander replied. "Where do I go?"

William called out from the office. "Use the back door out of the kitchen. He should be in the barn with the horses and chickens and such."

"Thank you, Mr..." Xander paused.

"Westbridge", Tara whispered.

"Westbridge", Xander finished. They gave each other secret smiles as Xander exited and could hear William yell back.

"No problem! You two should get along great!"


	3. Chapter 3

_Childhood living is easy to do_

_The things you wanted, I bought them for you_

The barn was a dusty place. Xander was used to dust, granted, but this bordered on museum level. Also, it didn't quite look like what he'd seen of barns in movies. Xander knew of course that the world wasn't always accurately portrayed by Hollywood, but this wasn't anything like what he imagined. Sure, on the outside, the barn was red and chickens scattered all around and pecked at his feet. Sure, the smell was noxious at times if it wafted the right way, but that could have also been said about the sewers of Sunny dale; although why they'd make a movie in a sewer, Xander couldn't tell you. Unless it was about mutant turtles.

The barn really did somewhat disappoint. No visible back wall, it was just like walking through a breeze-way, and only a small loft overflowing with hay. Littered all around were these rusty bear-trap things that Xander picked up one of, and then put back hastily. Nothing says stupid like picking up an unknown object and playing with it. However, this barn did have one thing most barns were known for; a shirtless farm hand. Xander couldn't also help but observe that this one was, well there was no other way to describe it, hunky.

His movements with his pitchfork were as graceful as his muscles as they pumped forth and backwards; as fluid as an engine. Sparse glittering beads of sweat swayed from his brow down his chest. He had short black hair, a surprising lack of tan for a farmhand, and a bare piece of jewelry hanging from his neck, a strand of rope with a circle entwined in it. His eyes were the shade of limes hanging out in a kitchen at midnight; subtle but sexy. Xander hoped it was Peter and not just some cruel mirage the desert of life was sending his way. Xander leaned forward on the railing a bit to get a better look, but a glance out of the green eyes told him he had been caught. Xander shrugged; there was really nothing incriminating to hide.

"You keep watching me, stranger, I'm going to have to start charging you." Xander thought about mumbling sorry, but wasn't really. A short span of silence and the farmhand leaned against the pole. "Are you just gonna stand there all day watching me work?" There was an accompanying stare that sent a message down Xander's spine. "Or can I help you with something?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure you can. Mr. Westbridge just hired me to be your assistant, kind of. You see, I don't know much about farming, but I'm not afraid of hard work."

"You'd better stop before you babble yourself into a painted corner, city boy." Xander wasn't sure if Peter was annoyed or just rude, but decided to wait it out. He'd gotten on Angel's nerves often enough babbling away; why should a stranger be any different? Xander hoped those sweaty shoulders weren't cold; although he imagine thawing them out could be a lot of fun. Peter slammed the tines of his pitchfork into the hay where it stood waiting for use.

"My name is Peter. They probably sent you to me so I could show you the ropes. Now, make no mistake; we work hard around here. There's a lot to be done; leave your attitude at the barn door, alright?"

The speech was clearly rehearsed; Peter must have been tired of a new vagabond coming in and out every week. Xander would have to prove himself useful, wouldn't have been the first time anyways. All Xander could do was nod. He wasn't really keen to reveal that he had once swept the floor of a vampire's dojo in the first few weeks of training. Angel had been about building muscles and refining them in those first few weeks. Xander was sure anything this guy could throw his way wouldn't faze him. As always, the Zeppo wasn't right about everything.

"So, do you know anything about the kind of work we do?"

"Well, I can gather that you don't grow corn or wheat from the looks of the ground." Peter nodded approvingly; maybe it was an "this guy isn't too big an idiot" nod, Xander hoped that's what it was, he was goofy but didn't have the luxury of being an idiot anymore. "From the smell and the chickens all around; I'd say this was more of a meat farm than a veggie farm, but please correct me if I'm wrong."

"Well, you're half right. We're past the harvest for our wheat; that's why the fields are bare. If you stay around long enough, you'll be helping to plant the new batch of crops. I doubt you will though."

Oh ye of little faith.

What do you mean by that Molly? Oh, I'm sorry, Tara.

Appearances can be deceiving, Peter. And why did you tell him your real name?

You were listening in? You know how I feel about that.

I couldn't help it.

Well, just back off for a bit; I just want to lay down the law.

Alright Peter, but please don't scare this one away.

I won't; he'll scare himself away if anything. Peter had the luxury of pretending to look out the window and the appearance of ignoring Xander during this little inner conversation.

"You don't think I'll stay that long?"

"You never can tell, but most likely no."

"Well, I'd like to prove Angus wrong. I'm a lot more than just a city slicker, Peter. Just show me how it's done and I'll work."

"Confidence and a sense of humor? You'll need that around here with nothing but me and a few animals to keep us company on a daily basis. I'll tell you what; shift this hay around so the fresh stuff is on top and then I'll introduce you to the stallion of our little barn."

You mean you aren't it? Xander wouldn't have dared vocalize it, but he swore somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a little giggle.

"I think I can handle that."

It was Xander's turn to be watched. Peter left out the back entrance, but watched the tan and raven-haired man work. Peter wondered where the scar had come from on his brow; he was sure this wasn't any ordinary city boy. Peter didn't take much by ordinary; wasn't even sure it existed anyways. Peter watched as Xander dug confidently past little dung heaps in the hay and tried to shovel it like an overgrown snowbank. It was, well, amusing.

Having failed that, he watched Xander try and mimic his own motions. If Peter could have only seen Xander trying to concentrate and imagine himself as a little crane. His movements were jerky, but Peter was sure this guy had worked hard before and wasn't adverse to that. He nodded to himself with approval and then headed farther out beyond the barn to the edge of a fence and waited; watching invisible tumbleweeds and leaning against the fence post. Xander came out with dust prints on the side of his jeans. He leaned against the fence in the same fashion as Peter.

"Did you ever plan on telling me your name, city boy, or were you just wanting to go by that title?"

"My name is Xander; although I have been dying for another nickname, but I'm sure you could come up with something better than city boy."

"Cute, trying to make a joke?" God I hope so. "Well good, because the last thing this little farm needs is another less than helpful city slicker coming in for only a week."

"I promised to stay at least a month."

Peter's eyes sharpened on Xander. "What, lose a bet?"

"Not quite; I'm just looking for my place is all. My old life kind of ended and I needed a fresh start."

"I can relate." A small quantity of time passed where they both watched invisible tumbleweeds. "Well, there is more work to be done today, and we don't really have time to sit around talking like old ladies. Let me introduce you to your worst nightmare, Xander."

Peter let out a shrill whistle and something came barreling out of the darkness. Xander thought it might have been a horse at one point, but it looked too wild to be a horse. It was all muscle and fire. Normal farm hands were taken aback by it and many city slicker had been awed in its presence. Sugar couldn't tame it; starvation and over-feeding didn't seem to work either. This was a wild horse; the real master of the ranch. He only let the fence hold him until it was amusing enough for him.

"Xander, this is Fainic. It took a tremendous amount of time to get him to even respond to the whistle. It required lots of crops and certain hard training; it wasn't pleasant, I won't lie to you. Your job will be to feed him twice a day. He's a finicky eater; I have yet to please him for more than an hour. But he keeps this place running with his thoroughbred blood. Good luck with that; I'll be in the house getting some water if you need me." As Peter sauntered off, he was sure he heard Alex mutter.

"Yeah, good luck indeed."

Okay, so the first meeting with Peter hadn't been all sunshine and roses; Xander was willing to accept that. This brute had made Xander gasp a bit as it kicked up dust and romped around. Xander, however, couldn't let on that he didn't really fear the wild creature, and taming him wasn't actually on his list. For Peter's benefit, he had let onto his awe, but hadn't disclosed the center of gravity that Xander actually felt. He hadn't stepped back from the brute when he first saw him and imagined, chuckling a bit, a number of rodeo clowns climbing and shuttling over the fence in terror. He took it with a grain of salt. After facing master vampires, hyena spirits, Willow's almost world-ending destruction, sex with Anya, and Angelus; Xander was hard-pressed to fear anything. No, the emotion that had sent him reeling backwards often enough was love.

He wasn't a master with horses and he wasn't sure what to do with it exactly, but he knew this wasn't a dumb animal. He was sure animals sensed a lot more than they let on. All he'd have to do was show this horse that there was a new sheriff in town, so to speak. He obviously had no problem staring Xander down; he had glanced his way twice without fear. Peter watched from the barn as Xander sauntered into the fence and did his best swaggering sheriff impression. Peter giggled in spite of himself. Well, if nothing else, this Xander character sure had balls.

Fainic had sent more than one new hire packing, but here was Xander just getting in the ring with him. He had made sure to pack plenty of fresh bandages on the table next to the rusty bear trap Xander had picked up earlier; just in case. He had doubled back around the barn and now stood stoic and taut, but amused, ready to spring into action to settle the horse enough to get Alex out of there if need be. Fainic could sense the amusement in Alex's voice as he tried to lay down the law.

"Alright, you ornery pilgrim," Xander began in his best John Wayne impression, "Now you'd better settle down there." The horse snorted deeply as if to retort. Xander was facing a "you and what army" kind of horse. Xander knew the type; thought they were king of hill. But, like him, held the weakest of insecurities. Not sure of what type of horse they were; alienated from their wild cousins and unable to cope without human compassion. Xander identified with the wild stallion, but knew he'd have to make this stallion believe it. He began to try and reason with the horse and looked him straight in the eye.

"Alright, buddy, you think you must be pretty cute and terrifying. I hate to tell you this, but I can see right past those big brown eyes of yours. You're probably no tougher than Angel; all talk with a bur on your stomach to be pulled out. Don't snort at me, Mr. Stallion. You are wasting your breath." The horse began to look away, unnerved with this turn of events. Humans weren't supposed to be so confident!

"Look at me; I'm not gonna try and dope you up with sugar. You're too good for that. What is gonna happen is you're gonna like your hay, oats, and all those finicky habits you got?" Xander grabbed the horse's mane in a place he assumed wasn't too sensitive while avoiding the muscular back end that was waving around. The feral hyena spirit was surfacing again; laying down law animal to animal. "Those habits are gonna go. I'm gonna tame you; tame enough for Tara to ride and put daisies in your hair. And you'll like it." Xander was frighteningly close now, and the horse was circling him, unsure how to take this new direction.

The horse lunged with his mouth for a chunk of Xander's arm and found it's aim. Xander was only so quick, but he did grab the horse's mane so he couldn't let go. Peter jumped forth, but stopped and held his breath. Xander's teeth had grabbed the horse by the ear while the horse was biting a large chunk from his forearm. The pain was like those first days with Angel; training as live target practice on avoiding arrows. Angel had used live arrows, dulled just enough to leave impressions and sometimes draw blood. This horse wasn't playing, but neither was Xander. Peter saw them struggling in combat and he struggled with what to do. Panicking the horse would certainly leave Xander's arm without much skin, or worse yet the dire opposite of intact, but Xander didn't seem to have control. At that moment, Xander began to feel different than himself. Something began to surge through him; like with the soldier and hyena.

But Xander knew magic; knew this wasn't it. Xander's brow began to crinkle and dots of hair began to line his jaw. His eyes saw the fence change and his feet began to stamp along with the horse in this tug of war, the war of the willful spirits. Finally, the horse had had enough. The taste of blood leaking into his mouth from chomping on Xander's arm prodded his tongue enough to let Xander go. Two strong squares reside where the front teeth had chomped down the hardest. Xander wasn't woozy from the lose of blood; just concerned with what had happened. He let out a command for the horse to return to the barn, but all Peter heard was a shriek come from Xander that sounded like one of Fainic's snorts. The horse backed up skittishly into the fence and then raced back into the shelter of his home; trying not to think about the anomalous events of the day. Xander staggered forward a bit and then leaned on Peter.

"Try not to get blood on my shirt, Xander. I wouldn't want M...y boss' daughter to get upset at me for putting you into danger."

"What," Xander slurred, feeling slightly woozy now that his adrenaline had died down a bit, "no more city boy?"

"No, I think you've earned your name; now come on crazy horse let's get out of this heat." Noon had turned to one and the shadows were standing tall as Peter and Xander entered the barn together. Peter scooped up two bales of hay from an empty stall and tossed one over the side of Fainic's stall to try and get some peace. Xander wouldn't deal with him again today. Xander sat still, trying to concentrate on what had happened. He was broken out of his trance by Peter's offer of water. Xander gulped water from the cool pail, trying not to be greedy but wasn't fooling Peter. Xander's eyes turned sharp on Peter.

"Off with the shirt," the words staggered out of Peter's throat.

"Why?" Xander simmered in half anger and half annoyance. "Didn't I pass your test? Face down your fearsome beast and now I get to be a shirtless wonder too?"

"That's not fair."

"Like hell it's not! You think I'm just a city slicker and I was foolish enough to want to prove otherwise."

"Hey, don't get angry at me hot shot. You're the one who decided to climb into the ring without a matador cape or a lifeline. Usually people don't swagger into a wild animal's domain and just start making demands. At least, not the ones that live long enough to know better. Now, do I have to take that shirt off for you to look at that wound fully?"

Xander stood again, stoic, and whipped his shirt off, flinging it downward.

"Jesus Christ preserve us; do you handle wild stallions on a regular basis?" Xander looked down as if seeing himself for the first time in awhile. It had been maybe a year since he had looked at himself naked in a mirror and he had often failed to notice his growing collection of scars budding from his ripped 4 pack and dark nipples. The midday heat created a slight etching of water among the deepest of the scars and he flicked some away from his bangs.

"Not quite, Peter, but some days it feels like I have." Peter came closer with his kit to examine Xander's forearm and they sat only a couple of feet apart. Peter grabbed Xander's arm and began to trace the already dried punctures. Xander winced slightly when the alcohol singed off the caked blood and the bandages were pressed down; Peter worked in silence and only small hisses echoed off the walls of the barn.

"We've all got secrets, Xander."

"You talking about my scars?"

"Well, it gives you some history and a bit of a past."

"Well, they're not from bar fights," at least not all of them, Xander added in thought. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Peter said as he swabbed around the tight band of cotton.

"Since I was fifteen," Xander began, "I've fought the things that go bump in the night. More often then naught they bite as well as bump."

Peter winced. "Very poetic; mind explaining that in English?"

"How do I know I can trust you? I've got enough secrets to rock your world."

"Let's just say you aren't the only one with scars." Xander's eyes darted down to Peter's face as he blew on the cuts. Xander shivered in spite of the awful heat. Peter locked his eyes with Xander's. "His name means fear in Gaelic. You showed more courage than I would have believed; don't make a habit out of it."

"I knew it was Gaelic; I can't help who I am."

"You a hero, Xander?"

More so that I can say, Xander thought.

"How'd you know it was Gaelic?"

"I've studied a lot of things in my time."

"Like me?" Xander thought it was thirst that made him lick his lips, but when Peter inched closer and kneeled to lean in, they both knew they were thirsty. Xander leaned more forward into Peter's mouth and tasted smoky tobacco dancing on his tongue. Sweet, fragrant chocolate brought Peter back to a life long ago in Ireland, a life where he thought Kaitlyn would bring him happiness. Xander remembered the smoky chicory scent from Angel's fireplace. Peter reached forward and there stomachs touched, his hand anchoring Xander's back. Alarm bells began to ring, and Xander broke away, not quite stunned but not quite sure what to make of the situation.

"That was the dinner bell, Alex. We'd best go. And you'd better leave your shirt on. Tara will have my hide if she sees those bandages." Xander couldn't move; fought for words. Peter looked back from the door.

"Come on, hot shot, let's just say we all have secrets and leave it there for now, okay?" Xander pulled his shirt back down and sauntered back to the house with Peter. Apple pie wafted from the window and laughter came from inside. "Oh yeah, don't mention Fainic's name. Tara wanted to name him Black Beauty."

Just like a girl to try and tame him, Xander thought. But there's no taming a horse like that.


	4. Chapter 4

_No sweeping exits or offstage lines_

_Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind_

Dazed? That wasn't quite the word for it. There was no word for it. Xander was beyond a feeling; incapable of noticing the little buzzing thoughts hiding right behind his eyes. Later, Xander wishes he could remember some of that day leading to dusk; to some of those thoughts he had as he plopped whole-heartedly into his bed in his little room of the little yellow house.

But all he can think about is Peter. Peter who has the courage of Angel; the courage to be himself. Peter who did not hesitate, but followed where he pleased himself to. Peter, who had kissed Xander. It wasn't love; Xander felt sure as he began to doze. It couldn't be; not without a long period of loathing and sarcasm to stew with. No, Xander was sure, had to be sure.

He has a dazed look in his eyes Dad. Do you think something is wrong?

His thoughts are well-guarded, but he's eating. So maybe we shouldn't pry.

But dad, what if Peter's stallion hurt him? Peter told me to stop listening in.

I think if something were wrong; Peter would say so. When have you known him to harbor secrets?

The Grey man, daddy. He never told anyone about...

Please, we can't worry about that now. Gabriel has no power and we can keep him at bay ourselves. Bob assured me.

He's still scary, dad. I wish he would have never come to us for help. Evil men don't change.

I know that, pumpkin, but we'll be alright. We're always alright. Now put on a cheerful face; the pie is ready and smells delicious!

Xander perceived a difference in the air. He might not have been tuned into the conversation, but his instincts knew to stay attuned to the people in the room. However, that didn't require him to care; just to remain vigilant. Xander scarfed two pieces of white bread before he noticed the stillness in the room centered around him, all eyes staring. Xander gave a slight shrug.

"I apologize for not saying hello when I came back in. It's just been a very long morning."

"I guess it's true then. You are a bit more of a city slicker than you'd like to believe."

"I don't know. Just because you live there doesn't mean you're not capable. What I meant was this is the first time I've ever been around a horse. That's all."

"You mean you met Beauty?" Tara's voice held a sense of rising panic.

Xander tried his best to reassure her. "He was quite impressive."

"I don't think that was a good idea. What if he'd been hurt?"

"Well, he wasn't." Peter stared William down.

"No, I wasn't. All that big brute just needed was a little bit of talking to. I think you'll find him a bit more perceptive from now on."

"And you gave him that talking to?"

"Oh yes, Xander left quite an impression on the stallion." Xander shot Peter a glance that he didn't quite catch. Peter was fielding a dark warning look from both Tara and William.

Peter, you know how we feel about that horse. Would you mind showing Alex something a bit more pedestrian next time?

He handled himself exceedingly well, Matt.

Peter, we can't afford another lawsuit. 

We won't need one; he's one of us.

"What do you mean; one of us?"

"I picked up on it this morning at the market. Angus brought a new recruit to Ranch McPeaceful."

"Do you have to be so sarcastic when talking about Matt and Molly's place?"

"Why shouldn't I be? Peace and do-gooding? Since when has that done either of us good? Or don't you enjoy mild trouble making anymore, Gabriel Grey?"

"No, that's not it Adam. You should have seen this kid catch, though. He made me slightly nervous."

"You? Nervous?" Adam's accent followed his eyes as they reflected off the mirror he was combing his hair at. He and Gabriel lived in a converted monastery; using it as a dojo and dance hall for the town. Adam had such a vast number of experiences that he had become the town pastor in a small amount of time. It also allowed the good clique to keep a nice little eye on the doings of Gabe and Adam. They hadn't been able to keep an eye on everything though. Gabe has sworn he'd been reformed; Adam didn't care in either direction; as long as Hiro stayed far away in Japan, he couldn't care less. Adam considered himself above pettiness at this stage of his life. Adam's light pupils met the wistful gaze of Gabe; who had propped himself up on Adam's bed.

The two had grown close in their banishment; more like brothers than lovers. Working on the land had done that to the pair. Gabe tolerated Adam's company; Adam tolerated Gabe's penchant for being shirtless. It was a bargain deal. Deal with a nagging set of do-gooders over pill-popping Company pushers and the "sparkling" Elle? It seemed like a better fit for the tact and grace Gabe and Adam both knew they possessed. They had even graciously taken the offer for new aliases. Pastor Jesse combed his now-dried hair while waiting for his burgundy silk button-down to finish in its Dryel bag. These little "parties", as Molly so charmingly referred to them; were a check-up on the boys.

"Since when has anyone given you cause to be nervous? I mean, apart from that Spanish girl's breakdown when she became pregnant."

"I thought we agreed never to talk about that."

"Sorry, I'm just saying that you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about. So what if another one of us freaks has stumbled upon this dust bowl of a utopia? With the Company out of commission and the Bennett family out of our hair; we have absolutely no threat we cannot handle. Barring, of course, our own sanity." Gabriel crept up behind Adam wearing black dockers and breathed into his ear.

"Since when have we been sane Adam? You've seen more war than you care to recount. I've eaten the brain of many a talented person and gloried in it."

"Yes, and you often remind me of that. I wish when you said it though; you wouldn't whisper it into my ear." Adam pushed Gabe playfully backwards onto the bed. "You are such a queer person, Gabriel Gray."

Gabriel smiled back in his direction. "And you, my dear Pastor Jesse, are a sadist for living with such a freak." Adam wiggled his right ear and let out a big smile. He pushed a button next to his bed and Gabriel was engulfed in a leather sling.

"If I am a sadist; then maybe you'd like to be my piñata." Gabriel chose not to respond with anything but a smirk.

"Okay, okay, put me down." Gabriel's arms flailed just a bit; the sensation wasn't pleasant to him at all, no matter how often you got used to it. "Put away your little parlor tricks, Mr. Starfish. I'm not impressed, and you know I don't like being off the ground."

"Sorry mate, but I couldn't just let you get away with that. Where would you like to be set down?"

"It'd probably be best set it in your own room." William pointed at Alex's duffel lying huddled next to the door on the porch.

"You mean I don't sleep in the barn?"

"Only if you really want to," Peter intoned sarcastically as he and William led Xander up to his small room. A short time later, interrupting Xander's thoughts about Peter, the doorbell rang. He couldn't see who it was though, because he was on the other side of the house. William yelled out from the kitchen to Xander.

"Will you get that? It's probably Pastor Jesse."

You know it's not daddy. I don't like this. He's come alone.

I know that, but we have to make sure everything seems slightly normal, for now.

I don't like him.

I know, but our hands are tied.

Xander Harris opened the door and Gabriel Grey creaked into his life. Gabriel filled the entrance with his disarming charm. There was something, Xander couldn't put it well, ethereal about him. Seemed like a good word to borrow from something Willow said once, at least. Well, maybe not ethereal, but something altogether different about Gabriel Grey. It was almost like seeing Angel at the Bronze beneath those lights with Buffy for the first time. Grey was the type of man that could take your breath away without any power at all. The words had to force themselves to stumble out of Xander's mouth.

"Pastor Jesse?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He sends his regards, but for the moment he is tied up. My name is.."

"Liam," the words dripped from Peter's clenched jaw. Peter did not like this one bit. Adam and Gabriel, correction, Jesse and Liam, split up for the night. This was not good. Xander saw some form of mistrust shifting into annoyance in Peter's eyes; the tightening fist didn't help either. Xander wondered if he held the same type of mistrust for the clergy. "Pastor Jesse is busy tonight?"

"I'm afraid so. Rosie is giving birth again." It was too viable an excuse. That miserable cow Jennie had bought didn't seem to be good for much except for giving birth; even then they'd probably not get much milk out of her.

"But, as I said before Peter, he does send his regards. He told me to tell you that he had looked forward very much to meeting the newest member of the ranch and hoped he would fit in well here at the homestead." There was something suspicious and unflattering about his words, but with William behind him and Peter at his side, he figured Liam wasn't going to be much of a problem, at least as far as, you know, supernatural beings and whatnot.

"He's fitting in just fine." William stepped up behind Peter and Xander.

"Xander, this is Liam, the pastor's assistant." Xander took Gabriel's hand firmly and they shook; each taking the measure of the unsuspected man. Tara, was, of course, visibly invisible from the proceedings. Gabe wore a wine-colored silk shirt; not something you'd really expect of a pastor's assistant, but nothing fazed Alex. Life was full of explainable surprises; some just took longer than others to unfold. Dinner was spent in a dense silence; Alex being the only one to get full enjoyment of Tara's superb pot roast. She had quite a future ahead of her; the applications of her prowess seem to know no bound. General exclamations came forth as the long-cooled apple pie made its way to the center of the table. Alex was startled with what he had helped to create.

Tara also had this way of creating joy that was unexpected. A simple game of Pictionary became more with her and her dad working together to create picture of ponies, coffee mugs, and even the letter Y. Peter had refused to play and had decided to leave for bed early. He stomped towards the back stairs in the kitchen giving William a knowing look. Deciding that his fears might prove to be unfounded, Xander decided to pursue the game with Liam's help.

Angel's previous namesake was doing extremely well with giraffes and pirate ships and then Alex picked a card that made him gasp. He wondered if something in the stars might be guiding him. Now, he had no choice. He couldn't really expose himself for the sake of winning the game, but he could hint at his experiences. Lines began to form lines and a man began to take shape.

The words rattled from Liam's cage as he inched in on Xander's paper. "Walt Disney? John Wayne?"

"Keep trying, cowboy, I think you've almost got it." Xander drew a crude symbol of a stake; something that might have even fooled Buffy in its indifference to the object. Liam looked up, puzzled.

"The guy from the Dark Crystal? David Bowie?"

"I draw a stake and you get David Bowie?" The words leapt from his mouth before he could contain them and his face lit with a distinct albeit faint horror. "I mean, come on man," he tried to cover the tracks, "you could have at least guessed Van Helsing or something."

"That's too specific, even for me." Liam snatched for the pen and drew something. "This is what I would have drawn."

Xander gasped and gave Liam a sidelong glance. He bit his bottom lip. If Liam was evil he would have attacked already, an unfamiliar voice invaded Xander's thoughts. It was Angel. Were the fates trying to tell him something yet again?

Tara jumped up and exclaimed that it might be time for some singing. It was nearly November after all, and they could all use some Christmas carol practice. Liam chuckled softly at the suggestion. Little Tara was more embarrassed than any of them. William played piano and Tara sang along. William shared the same part as Xander so only Liam noticed when Xander walked towards the front door.

Liam got up from his sofa and went out as well while William was in the middle of "O Christmas Tree". A barrel of daggers would have been less lethal than the stare he received, but Gabriel just shrugged it off. He wouldn't be worried about the old man right now, and he wouldn't hurt Alex. At least, not yet. Xander in the dark was part of the stars. The line between the horizon and his eyes blurred. Liam sauntered next to him and lit the lantern next to his post for a soft glow effect.

"You like the stars, Alex?"

"Why did you draw that tonight?"

"Right to the point, I see."

"Yeah, well, I don't really have time to beat around the bush. Time is not a luxury any of us can afford."

"So cynical for someone so young."

"You're avoiding the question."

"You're right of course; you deserve an answer. You see, I am a connoisseur of sorts."

"What, you collect dark knowledge? I'm surprised then, oh pastor's assistant."

"That's not quite what I meant. Let me explain." Xander's sharp eyes bared down a little. "What do you see when you look into the sky?"

"The beauty of the heavens."

"Exactly. I see that and an infinite amount of space. In that space is all the knowledge of every eye that has ever gazed it. I simply like to find as much of it as possible."

"That's a nice story to comfort yourself with, Liam. But if you think I'm fooled; then think again. I only know a hand full..."

"Let me stop you there. I admit, I've had a passing interest in power, but I'm not like that anymore. I'm simply inspired by knowledge now. People can change, can't they Xander?"

"I agree; people do change." Xander looked back toward the sky for a moment and then with a softened glance at Gabriel. "But even if you found what you were looking for; what would you do with it?"

"Do you remember the library from Beauty and the Beast? I would do that."

"What really happened to Pastor Jesse?"

"I told you, he was tied up."


	5. Chapter 5

_I watched you suffer a dull aching pain_

_Now you decided to show me the same_

There didn't seem to be an end to the night on the prairie. No cars came zooming by; no harsh yellow street lights invading the shadows. It annoyed Xander and he tossed and turned. Quiet as a tomb is what he whispered to himself. Xander was a little scared, but more annoyed with himself. He hadn't guarded himself well. A stranger in a new town, and what, already falling for the first pieces of yummy that comes your way? Pathetic. Xander sauntered into his little alcove bathroom and splashed a bit of dripping water on his face. He allowed the beads to crawl down his neck before brushing them aside. He watched the stars go faint as dawn approached, and then, as a shadowy figure stepped back into the house.

It wasn't much of a triumph, considering a lack of places to hide, and Xander wasn't worried about attacks or mischief right now. He was thinking of Angel; no, Angelus. He didn't want to admit that the vibe Angelus had had reached throughout the core of Liam. Nor did Xander want to admit that he understood Angel's words pouring forth. The startling difference in the feeling and the speech unnerved someone who should be able to identify dark fraud so well. Xander sighed and slumped back down on his mattress. And then there was Peter. Peter, who was downstairs when he arrived half an hour later. A small track of dirt had been missed as he had been cleaning up after himself. Xander didn't say a word as he watched Peter shift around making strong coffee.

"You're awake, Xander. I'm impressed. Usually I have to turn the hose on the visitors to get them up."

"I'm used to keeping odd hours."

"You're also used to making vague statements."

"Yeah, well, it goes with the territory."

"Coffee?"

"As black as the night, if you please." The two men enjoyed a slice of pie with their coffee, leftover apple being the best kind, and Xander wondered if he should address Liam at all. There was a definite history to be considered and Alex was still unsure of something. "So, what kind of work is there left to do until winter sets in?"

"Well, there's not much right now. You decided to find your way here at a good time. All I can suggest is that we finish the hail baying I was doing yesterday morning so Angus can just bring his truck around later. Then we'll just load it in. Shouldn't take all day, but then there's nothing better to do."

"So tell me then, what goes on here when there aren't parties going on at night?"

"Not much. I suppose we could go in to town for a beer if you'd like, but this definitely isn't New York."

Or LA, Xander thought. "So, no random food place open 24 hours a day?"

"Nope; none of that. I usually stay up reading at night."

"Well, at least that's something." Better than brooding I suppose.

"Maybe you would like to get to it before the sun gets too hot?" Peter suggested.

Xander put down his coffee cup and followed Peter into the backyard. The sun rippled gloriously over the golden bails all around the loft of the barn and seeped into the yard. No mention was made of Fainic that morning, but Xander was still wondering about what had happened to him. Peter and he worked simultaneously and he enjoyed getting a better look at the way his motions just seemed to match. He was so sure and able. Xander was still trying not to kick up too much dust.

"Wouldn't this be better with some music?"

"Sure, but I couldn't afford the bills if something got caught in the i Pod cord, could you?" He made a compulsive point. Xander, though, wasn't used to complete silence. He was a known babbler at his very best and in half an hour; the strain of the silence had too many cords of thoughts wrapped tightly round his mind.

"So, are you ever going to admit that you and Liam have something between you? Or are we just going to work in silence all day?"

"You think you've been here long enough to know about that?"

"No, but anything that distracts you from your work or keeps you out at all hours-maybe you should talk about that. And you can trust me."

"I don't know about trusting you, Xander."

For a moment, he thought about exposing the new scars on his forearm, but then thought the better of it. "Well, at least don't let it eat you up on the inside. I can at least say I have experience with that. You mentioned New York with a fond look in your eyes. Did you ever live there?"

"Why do you want to know? Jealous?" Peter flashed a smile. Xander knew he was stalling.

"Look; we don't have to talk about it. But I've never been to New York. I hear the pizza's great, though."

"Yeah, it is. There's lots of great things to talk about. But I'm not one much for small talk. My brother and I owned a small loft there and we worked at the docks. Normal, average joe type stuff; nothing spectacular. What's with the third degree?"

"Nothing; I just thought..."

"You thought what? That we bonded and so now you can get all your mysterious answers? It doesn't work like that."

"I'm not trying to piss you off; there's just something about him that you reacted to. Something more pressing that I need to know about."

"Well, then what? I'd just like to finish work and get into town for that beer."

"Never mind now; there's no point in talking if you're just going to snipe."

"Well, then don't start on things you don't understand, city boy."

"Is that it, is it?" Xander shook his head. "You don't have to believe that I understand. But don't think I don't notice things; I notice a lot more than people have given me credit for."

"And don't pretend like you know everything, stranger." The words stung a lot more in Peter's mind. The truth wasn't that he didn't want to share stuff with Xander; the truth was that he didn't want to share it with himself. To admit the past and the dirtiness of it all might have just been too much for even Peter to fathom. It wasn't in his nature to be like that. Xander walked toward Fainic's stall.

"Look, at least a horse is honest with itself. It doesn't pretend or hold grudges; I'd rather be around someone like that. I learned a long time ago that we, as mere mortals, don't have the luxury of time. I'll go into town for a beer, but don't pretend like what happened yesterday between us or between you and Liam didn't mean a thing."

Peter was shocked as Xander entered the horses' sanctum. The beast itself just reared its head and tried not to move. Xander was a force to be reckoned with and Peter backed off to the other side of the barn. When night fell, they drove in silence in Peter's beat up Ford, it seems everyone here had some model, and they stopped at the local bar. They sat across from each other in silence; drinking bitter American Budweisers and not saying a word.

Secretly, Xander wished it could have been warmer. Fainic was better company, but every time he was near Fainic he felt different. There was an electrical charge between the two now; something in the air like magic. Peter set down his third bottle a little too sharply.

"I can't stand this silence anymore. Can you accept there are some things you don't need to know?"

"Can you accept that maybe I could handle it?"

"Go back to the city."

"I can't."

"Look, there are just some things about my past and about Liam that you don't want to know."

"Try me."

"Trust me."

"I can handle anything you tell me."

"You can't trust Liam."

Xander's sense of judgment flared. He had known someone like Liam once. Hadn't he asked for forgiveness, for trust? Hadn't Xander been stupid enough to not see past the black and white into a heroic gray scale? "So you don't think bad men can change?"

"Not this one. But if you are that curious..."

"You know the old saying, Peter. Didn't curiosity kill the cat? Or the man, in this case?"

Peter looked up at the blond waitress. "Anne, how nice to see you."

"Arguing with the new kid in town? I hope he's not giving you a bad impression of us."

"No, he's just stubborn, Anne. It's nice to see you again by the way. I never got to thank you for the breakfast."

"Don't worry about it; girl's gotta make a living. I've got a kid to support, after all."

"Must be nice up here for him; all the wide open space."

"Danny's always been a bit more of a techie."

"Shame with the beautiful country you've got out here."

Annie glared. "Yeah, it's a real shame; like the way Peter treats new guys."

"Hey, it's not my fault completely." Peter put his arms up in surrender. "Unless you'd care to tell him. You know just as much as Liam about me." Xander's internal buzzer began to ding. Peter's eyes lit up a bit.

"Xander wants to know, does he? I don't know how wise that is, but there is something about you. Well, maybe he could handle it. At least a little."

"You both knew Liam?"

"That was a long time ago." Anne's face became slightly more pale. "You want my advice, new guy, stay away from Liam."

"You see? Isn't it best not to pry?"

"But what if he wants another chance? What could he have possibly done that would make everyone around here so bitter towards him? I mean, I know the clergy aren't the most open-minded of folks, but..." Peter hunched closer to his bottle; flames in his cheeks. Anne bit her lips down a bit before she answered.

"Xander; there are evil men in this world. Liam was one of them. He's claimed he changed. I can't say I'm inclined to believe it." Peter rushed from the table.

Anne shook her head, face paler yet. "You'd better catch him; he'll be leaving without you."

Xander knew enough from experience to do as he was told. "Hey! Wait for me. What, you just going to leave me in town too?" Peter punched the side of his Ford and left a small dent.

"Go back to California, Xander. That would be better for everyone involved."

"I don't want to back down now, Peter." Xander put his hand over Peter's fist. "I can't back down now. Not if you're going to hurt yourself. Not like this. Trust me; look at me." Peter's eyes were enraged and sorrowful; clouds lined his pupils.

"Just stop, Xander. The past is what it is for a reason. Men like him don't change. And there are grave sites to prove it."

"I get it. You couldn't avenge the death of whoever you loved he killed or took." Xander stood glued to his door handle as Peter leaned on the hood. "But what if I told you about someone I knew who did change, but I was too blind to notice it. And what if I did something so grievous that I couldn't repent for it if I wanted to. Even if I wanted to call it destiny or fate; it was me screwing up being myself. You've got to listen and let it go, Peter."

Peter lost control for the first time in over six months. Xander just had to be so insistent. Shards of window seared Xander's eyebrow as he fell backward. The tiny root of electricity that had shot from Peter's fingertip left blue shading along Xander's cheek bone momentarily. All Xander could remember when he awoke, and this was just hesitant, was Peter's eyes screaming and pleading with him to stop asking and talking about it. It was out of Xander's character to have this kind of persistence. Lord knows he had pried into different spells and things like that, but in a new town, Xander was bordering on foolhardy. But he didn't care. If he hadn't been so closed-minded; maybe Angel wouldn't have gone to Hell. Just maybe he wouldn't have lived in anguish when Buffy disappeared. Maybe things could have been different.

Liam's the same way. Xander was usually able to convince himself of amazing things. That's how he had come to be one of the most powerful, and yet mortal, Scoobies around. The idea of having this second chance excited and haunted him. He didn't want to admit how he had to suppress his feelings because of how Peter felt, but he was sure this was the right thing to do. He was alive to defend the helpless and that he would do. As far as he was concerned, Liam was just another member of some zoo to them, something to be studied and chained.

Xander hated that thought. The earth began to rumble under the weight of Xander's anger. Of course, Xander wasn't conceited enough to believe it was his own doing. The night was simply heaving forth a giant lightning storm, that was all. But the bolts were very close to the house; the wind slightly deafening. His windows hummed as he watched torrents of wind sweep across the barren plains. In the distance, he could hear animals shaking and rearing and shrieking in fear.

He shuddered; almost feeling that fear. It was the electricity inside of him that was doing it. It wasn't adrenaline, nor was it magic. Xander brought his hands down upon his bed, it was a few hours after Peter had brought his body home, and dropped to his knees as the screaming continued. The splinters of his midsection of his bed were next to come along. He examined his brutalized hands with faraway interest. The bed itself didn't register; split cleanly down the middle. His hands were as hard and stiff as coal; the darkening of the edges mirroring the cloudy night. Xander didn't understand, but he wasn't afraid. If this was who he was then he could accept it. But the pain in his ears was too much. A flash sent him tumbling backwards. He scrambled towards the window and hauled himself up to see the barn on fire. Well, really it was just a little bit of the roof, but in Xander's excited state all he could think about was the stallion.

His shirt ripped down the center as he flew down the banister and tore out the back of the kitchen. His jeans and hair became matted with dust and wind as he tripped the bottom step. But his heartbeat and blood screamed to help Fainic and his adrenaline didn't even register the bleeding knee. Stinging nettles of dirt flew all around and he brought his forearm up for protection, to momentarily gain perception. Half of the door creaked off its hinges thanks to the wind and Xander was thrown into a haystack in the corner. There must be a heck of a tornado coming, Xander thought. Fainic was stamping wildly as he bit through the leather straps containing him. A small patch of singed blood above his eye told Xander which part of the roof was burning. The embers were swirling around slightly as Xander began tugging heavily. Xander didn't scream at Fainic, but hissed under his breath.

"Calm down, Fainic. You can't win this battle by being jumpy. If you want to get loose to be safe then hold still. I won't let you get hurt here."

It was factual, and a lot for Xander to promise. He had no guarantee of his own or Fainic's safety at this point. Xander grabbed a rusty bear trap and began to saw through his own thigh, almost, while cutting the leather straps off the horses' head. The last strap snapped into thirds and Fainic smashed into the night. Xander watched him go and then the screaming began again. Other animals, trapped in the dangerous prairie night called for the watchman to help them. Xander couldn't shut them out and he ran after Fainic; not knowing where else to go.

The Westbridge Ranch surely wouldn't be thrilled with him releasing their prize stallion anyways. He would go and start fresh; no memories to tie him down at all. He'd live just like the beasts that he needed to protect. He wanted to be with them anyways. He ran into the night, bleeding and smoldering. His arms and calves feeling exactly like the fire that he was sure was licking away at the barn every second.

Xander didn't look back nor forward. He just looked as the storm calmed and he ran. The canyons of his mind echoed the frantic galloping pace of his feet. His hair grew long and swayed against the calm night. His eyes grew dim and his breath began to snort as his muscles tired. His stamina lasted for over five miles. Xander's muscles rebelled and he fell where he began to spit up dirt. He was lost, tired, spent, and exhausted. His collapse did not go unnoticed.

Angus sauntered up to the boy, transformed back into his own humanity, and sighed. Angus wasn't one to pry, but the boy looked as though he had one too many. City slickers just didn't hold their liquor well. He'd take him to see the priest instead of taking him home. He'd save the boy the embarrassment in front of Molly. And then he'd call Jenny and ask her to meet Liam. The boy didn't weigh much but groaned on the back of the gray stallion. Liam answered the door wearing a cloak and scooped the boy into his arms. He had a questioning look in his eyes, but his brain was whirring. Something had happened to Alex. Something much greater than the drunken stupor Angus was describing. He would nurse him with the help of Jenny. And then he would wait. The boy was more powerful than even Gabriel Grey expected.


	6. Chapter 6

_Faith has been broken, tears must be cried_

_Let's do some living after we die_

There was a nightmare playing in Xander's mind. Shadows and fiery light swirled around mounds of chaos. Xander didn't know whether he was alive or dead; only aware that he was. He imagined stars floating above his head and warm, silken grass blowing all around. That seemed odd somehow. Grass usually didn't feel like silk; it just tickled. There was a small sting in the center of his shoulder blades and he sucked air in just a bit. A whisper followed by an older female voice.

"I think he might finally be waking up."

"That's good."

"I was surprised you called me for help."

"Why would that surprise you? I don't know anyone else around with the kind of skill you seem to have."

"Well, I just can't help that." Jenny creaked and arose from her rocking chair. "Do you want me here when he wakes?" Xander's head wanted to nod, but there was a sick feeling abounding from it. He felt like Jimmy Stewart seeing the top of the Chrysler building. Years of experience taught him to wait, and so he made no sudden movements. Be it for good or bad; patience had proven to be a worthy ally in the game of life.

"No, he'll probably wake up disoriented. I'll look after him. Maybe you should come back tomorrow; we'll slide him back into existence then."

"You've been very thoughtful, Gabriel. I don't know what Matt and Molly were warning me about you for."

"Old habits die hard. Well, see you tomorrow."

"Of course; now remember-plenty of warm fluids and electrolytes. Feed the boy; he's had a tough night."

"The first time's always the toughest." Xander could hear Jenny chuckle softly. Who were Matt and Molly? Wasn't Liam talking to Jenny? He didn't want to think about those questions; things had been going so well. Okay, maybe no so well. But things had at least been going. All Xander remembered was that he had pushed too hard. He wasn't sure, except for Peter, what he had pushed too hard. He just knew it was, well, something. A sharp beep from a neighboring room jolted through Xander's ears and his fingers moved out of the shock. His cover had been blown; might as well get up.

"I'd be careful moving too fast, Xander. You've had quite an experience." Xander groaned as he shook himself into a slight sitting experience. Flipping himself off of his back and propping pillows behind him proved to be, well, excruciating was a good word for it. But Xander was a trooper, if anything.

"What happened, Liam?"

"There's plenty of time for that, later. Right now, Angus sent over some strong coffee for you and your pay from the ranch." Xander groaned; he'd forgotten about Fainic momentarily. He hoped the horse would be alright.

"I don't suppose they'll want me for that whole month now."

"I don't suppose so. But you are welcome to stay with me until your better," or maybe longer. Xander could smell coffee and he tried to reach out for it. His triceps rebelled and he felt a tremor of pain shoot up his shoulder. "So, we're awake enough to eat?"

"Yes", he let out a hoarse whisper. "I've rarely been in this much pain before."

"That's surprising. You do seem resilient though. Here, drink some coffee. We've got plenty of time to discuss what might have happened, what did happen, or anything in between." Xander's sight certainly hadn't been affected. Liam was clear as day; the coffee cup was clear as day. A nice dark beige with steamy goodness echoing outward. Xander took a small sip and his grip held long enough to set the cup down gently. Or what he thought was gently. There was a small clack as the cup met the end table.

"How long was I out for?"

"Long enough. Jenny just about called the doctor in the neighboring town."

"Is that her real name?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's pretend I'm not just a naive city boy. I overheard you talking with her."

"Well, honestly, I don't know. They didn't tell me. But, like I said, we've got plenty of time for that later. First off is getting enough of your strength back."

"Hangovers usually don't do this to me." Liam glared down just a bit. "What? I was a bartender; I learned to hold my liquor."

Liam continued a slight patronizing glare. "We both know that whatever happened tonight was not a result of alcohol, Xander. Let's not pretend; give me the same courtesy you gave me on the porch."

"Don't tell them I'm here."

"Is that a don't tell them or a don't tell him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can see it on your face. Don't worry; I swore Jenny to secrecy. But you can't hide things long in a town like this." Xander groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Then I can't stay," he said breathlessly as he flopped back down.

"Don't worry; I'm used to secrets. What you need to do is rest. I've got a sermon to perform. If you sleep for another three hours; you'll probably regain the strength in your calves enough to get up. That's my guess at least. Bathroom's right next door, and I've closed the curtains. I'll be back, but do us all a favor and don't run off again? I wouldn't want Angus scooping you into my arms again before it's necessary." Liam chuckled slightly as he left and that was the last thing Xander heard before he passed out from the pain shooting up his spine.

Xander seemed to taste a bit of blood the next time he awoke. He wasn't sure if he had tried to gnaw off his tongue, but he was so hungry that it wouldn't have surprised him much. A certain satisfaction rose in Xander that he was awake again. For one thing, being unconscious in a semi-stranger's house was not on top of his list of good, fluffy things to appreciate. Nope, there were no bunny-like feelings here. Except for being in a bed with silk sheets again. But in this groggy state, Xander was too weirded out to appreciate even Angel's memory. No, Xander was at least determined, if not more than his bladder, to move. And maybe see if the sun was out or if muffins were available. And there went that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach again.

Xander blindly tried to shift his weight to his legs and the spasm that shivered its way into his brain did not help matters. Work through it, a voice called out. He was sure it was Angel again; he always seemed to appear in some fashion for important things. Xander's body hurt; origin unknown. All working parts seemed in order, though. And some seemed in urgent order. Xander scuttled his way to the bathroom with the help of a lampshade, a dresser, and a painting on the wall; in that order. He wasn't surprised that his shirt was gone; nor that he had an impression from his belt. He was surprised at the amount he went. It was a great release he felt; like he had held it in and it had accumulated from his toes to his ears.

He loved the feeling of his dick in his own hands, though. And little Xander definitely appreciated the attention right back. The piss slowed and he got hard fast. His breath went a bit as he stroked slowly and then quickly. He bucked as he backed up a bit and he grabbed the sink behind him. He caught a quick look at his semi-shredded face and stopped full mast. In the days of Angel; he had often looked like hell. There had been no ending to the parade of peroxide bottles lining Angel's sink specifically for Xander. Of course, that had been real Italian marble. That was Angel; the best and most expensive if he had any say in the matter.

He brought his hand forward into the dripping water and put some on his cuts. His fingers stroked the mysterious visage. The cuts didn't run very deep and wouldn't leave scars. He closed his eyes as a presence closed in. His Angel was here. Xander's hand fell from his face backwards onto a slightly hairy chest. Xander's eyes popped open. Something wasn't right. Angel had a smooth chest; an absurd shade of marble that often matched the bathroom tiling. Little Xander didn't really pay attention to details like that, of course. Little Xander remained in his own little world for a few minutes more and then deflated slightly. Xander wasn't much in the area of liking being messed with. And he felt that being messed with was definitely occurring here, although he couldn't say how much or to what degree.

Xander snorted at himself in the mirror. He was a fool to believe in this town, or its seemingly innocent perfection. Xander couldn't outrun himself, his past, or the magnetism he seemed to attract to the strange and the otherworldly. At any rate, that explained Liam. He felt much better leaving the bathroom. His walking improved steadily; it was less like a waddle and more like a trot again. Xander hoped to find something to cover his chest before he opened the curtain. It wasn't embarrassment as much as he didn't enjoy being shirtless, or without weaponry he noted.

Two drawers down, Xander hoped Liam wouldn't mind, he had passed row after row of silk boxers and silk pajamas and finally silk shirts. What was it with ambiguously hot straight men and silk? Were they trying to tempt Xander beyond his own control? He shook his head and muttered slightly to himself. He hit bingo on the fourth drawer down. A parade of seemingly normal cotton gear danced before his eyes. He wasn't worried so much about fit, style, or heck, the fact this was day 2 of the lucky charms boxer parade, but worried about Liam's personal space issues, if any occurred. He assumed that Liam would be alright, but there wasn't any other option for Xander at the moment.

He pulled a plain white number from the drawer and slipped it over his head. The neck line had a slight v to it and almost buttoned-down like a polo, except leather ties were found where the buttons were. His eyebrows shifted a bit as he looked himself over in the mirror above the table, but didn't wonder how he looked. His hair was a little longer than he liked, but he was striking in the simple combo. The leather ties were a bit strange, but Xander got over it. The quiet sunshine that invaded the room when Xander pulled back the curtains was disturbing. There was simply no reason for it to be so quiet. He shook his head. Perfection had a way of being annoying on days like this. There weren't even any clocks to signify time. Xander left the curtains limp as he followed a hallway downstairs into what he hoped was the kitchen.

The place was almost as big as a Motel 8, only indoors. He finally found a small kitchen off of the second stairway and there he found a big plate of chopped creme cake with a little note from Anne. Apparently, Anne knew of Liam's sweet tooth and dropped off a cake about once a week. Xander wanted to find it strange, but found it strangely endearing. He heard Liam enter before he saw him. His face was down in his second helping of creme cake when Liam finally coughed.

"A little rude when we're hungry?" Xander snorted down a bit of cake as he chuckled and mumbled a slightly incoherent sorry. Liam just shook his head.

"If only I could remember what it was like to be your age."

"Fanks for all the hospitality," Xander swallowed and gasped a bit of air," I've had to borrow a shirt though."

"I thought you would. As long as you wash them, I'll give you the tour later, then it's not much of a big deal for me. Pastor Jesse's gone out of town for a while and I'm glad to have the company."

"Well, I'm glad to be someone's company. Is there any word on the horse from Westbridge Ranch?"

"No, and I don't suppose there will be; seeing as how you let it go." A feeling that wasn't hunger gnawed at Xander's gut. "I suppose you shouldn't feel guilty under the circumstances. The barn's roof did burn, but most of the barn is still standing."

"I don't suppose you could talk them into giving me my stuff?" Xander asked tenuously. He did hate imposing upon people; the Zeppo tended to like self-sufficiency. He thought of his picture of the old Scooby Gang and his favorite cedar stake. It defeated evil and kept his shirts smelling fresh. Liam just shook his head.

"I don't think that would be wise. It might give away your position. Eventually, we'll make it look like you've returned, but until then I think there's enough supplies for both of us. I see you found Anne's weekly treat. It almost feels like homage sometimes."

"You think you deserve homage?"

"Don't some people?"

"Somehow, you don't strike me as a Mother Theresa type, Gabriel."

"What did you call me?"

"I think you heard me."

"Keen young man."

"I've been called worse."

There were about four seconds of silence while Liam collected himself. "Well, if you must know; my real name is Gabriel, Gabriel Grey. I don't assume Xander is a false identity?"

"No, Xander is indeed my name. But why all the aliases? Did you kill someone?"

"Well, you might say that."

"Eh, you're not the first murderer who befriended me, and you probably won't be the last."

Gabriel slid in closer. "Sordid history?"

"You might say that." Both men chuckled.

"So, would you like the tour first or the truth?"

"The truth? I don't know if I want the truth about where Xander went off to." Peter shook his head, far too willing to let sleeping dogs lie.

Molly shook her head. "He hasn't done anything to warrant your mistrust."

"You're the one who pried into his mind!"

Matt shook his head. "Look, there's no reason to yell or get hot-headed. All I said was that we need to find him."

Peter took a sip of boiling coffee. "Angus assured us he was okay. He can take care of himself."

"Why are you so angry towards him, Peter? He just wanted the truth."

"Look, if I'm angry then it's not your business. But he hasn't been here long enough and I'm not opening up like this is some rerun of Ricki Lake."

"Xander could be in danger."

Peter remained adamant though. "He can take care of himself."

"Like you, Peter? Look, all these false identities and this little community means nothing if we don't take care of each other. Are you telling me you just want something to happen?" Peter's silence was more telling and cutting than any word he could have used.

"Anne told us everything. Peter, you lost control and we accept that. You can't fault him for wanting to know."

Peter mumbled, deflated. "It's none of his business."

Molly shook her head. "Look, I'll just find him and make sure he's not hurt too badly. And then you," and this is where she glared at Peter, "are going to man up and go talk to him. Fainic came back; no harm was done. At least not yet."

Peter threw up his hands. "Fine, do what you want Molly. I won't stop you from using your abilities. But I'll be utterly damned if I'm going to drag him back without his consent. What if he doesn't want to come back?"

Matt glared, itching to bring this into the open. "What if Nathan hadn't gone after you, Peter? Where do you think any of us would be?" Peter mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like probably six feet under.

Molly put up her hand. "Exactly. Now everyone quiet; I need a little bit of concentration."

Not far from the ranch; Xander felt something bounce off his mental shields. Willow had taught him a couple of handy protection spells, and he was glad that the little twitch in the back of his skull occurred. His energy returning to normal levels equaled joy. Willow had taught him to think of the mental shielding spell, or as he referred to it the Prof. X spell, as a giant lollipop around his brain that reflected incoming attacks or probes. Gabriel noticed the tiny twitch in Xander's eye and gave him a quizzical look.

"It was nothing."

"Come on, Xan, we have to trust each other. I mean, I'm basically hiding you here."

"Alright," Xander sighed. "You leave me no alternative. I'm a special operative for the CIA. That twitch was my self-destruct button activating." Liam gave him an Angel-type look. "No dice? Should I have said the witness protection program? Alright, alright. Stop looking at me like that. The truth?"

"That would be refreshing."

"The truth is that my best friend taught me a few spells to protect myself. The first of which was a mental shield spell." Gabriel had never wanted to fall out of a chair in surprise before. But now he did. How many secrets did this kid have?

Molly, unfortunately, did not have the same option. She awoke a few seconds later on the floor, confused, and harboring a slight migraine. "He's alive, but there was something there. A reflective wreath of sorts. I couldn't tell where he was. The only thing I could see was Sylar."


	7. Chapter 7

_I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie_

_I have my freedom but I don't have much time_

Peter couldn't have hopped in his car fast enough. Peter couldn't have bit down hard enough on his teeth. And anywhere else, he might have been certified for the look in his eyes. Peter was not happy. More importantly, he blamed himself for the entire mess. Why couldn't I have just told him? Maybe he would have come back already. I can't let Sylar hurt anyone else. Peter wasn't sure what the feeling was invading his system. The way that Nathan had looked at him in the hospital? That haunted him so often; this feeling was a stranger to him.

It was that rush the dust kicked up from the tires. It was the memory of the wind on that afternoon he had first learned of his brother's gift. And now it was that need; that need to protect Xander. Someone who stood at the door, waiting and hoping to be let in. Someone with a past. Someone very much like Peter. Peter himself was not in the mood for games. He had never been much for harboring secrets either, come to think of it. And the way that he barreled to stop in front of Gabriel's converted house made his stomach groan. His face flew forward into the dash, but adrenaline didn't allow him to feel it. He bellowed from the very core of his soul.

"Sylar!" It was a name he swore he'd never use again. It was a name that meant death, pain, and a myriad of unnecessary destruction. It was the darkness threatening to engulf his control. He bellowed again for good measure and then he began to focus. Beneath his eyes, a switch in his brain flipped. Minute electrical impulses sprung to life and the force of the door met the force that Peter controlled. Some called it telekinesis. All Peter could see was the force of the door melding with the force in his hand, bending toward his ultimate will. He roared at the top of his lungs as the hinges began to creak and split from the wood.

"Peter. How nice to see you again." The fake pleasantry halted a split in the wood and Peter's fiery eyes reached towards the window.

"Where is he Sylar?"

"Pastor Jesse, why he's out of town for the week."

"Don't play innocent. You've never been that. Where is Xander?"

"Well, I just don't know. It seems he has a habit of running off. But why don't you come upstairs? We could discuss this like... gentleman." Sylar leapt back slightly as the window began to crack and glass shards littered the room.

"I'm done playing with you Gabriel Grey. Now where is he?" The front door leapt from its hinges in concert with the last shards of the window. Sylar wasn't terrified of a pissed off Peter. That might have been unwise.

"Now, now, manners Mr. Petrelli. Why don't you just fly up here and we can...Oh wait, that's right. That was your brother's power, wasn't it?" The door flew past Peter's truck and landed half a mile away in a cloud of dust. Peter himself was mere moments from breathing down Sylar's neck in the entrance way.

"You know damn well that I don't need my brother to get things done. And you know damn well what I'm capable of. You want my suggestion, Sylar?"

"Yes, please give it." Sylar broke free of Peter's grip and connected square with his jaw in a way that sent Peter flying into a post in the middle of the court yard.

"Here's a suggestion for you, Petrelli. Don't come invading my home with your accusations. If Xander were here; he'd come and see you himself. Secondly, there's a large possibility that maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want to see you because you've done quite a bit more harm than good." Peter began to stagger to his knees and gritted his teeth. The weight of splinters running into his calves was foreign pain, but he continued to rise.

"Sylar, if you've hurt him; I will rip you apart."

"You think your threats mean anything to me Peter?" Sylar ran towards Peter and brought his hand forward; slicing it into a section of the beam. The noise made Peter wince a little. Then Sylar brought it away and the clean hole left began to close.

Peter looked at him defiantly. "You bastard."

"What, did you actually expect me to be all goodness and fluffy bunnies? I haven't even begun to show you what I'm capable of. And as for Xander; he'll find out soon enough." The last words whispered and drenched in Peter's ear until he shook with rage. "And best yet," Sylar leapt about with glee, "I'll make it his choice. And he'll choose me. Because I'm honest with him, Peter. Have you ever been honest with anyone?"

"Stop it, Sylar! This isn't about you."

"Bullshit. It's always about me. Now get out. But I'll let Xander know you stopped by."

Days turned into nights as Peter paced the town looking for Xander. Peter knew he couldn't have left. Molly could still feel him near, but without an exact location it seemed meaningless to keep bringing it up. What made Xander so strong?

"It's that power within you. It's what I used to tell my husband he had."

"What did you call it?"

"Animal magnetism; charm for lack of better words."

"I've never heard anyone put it that way Jennie." Xander put his can of fruit down and sighed deeply. "I've learned so much from you. You're so wise."

"Well, so are you from what I've seen."

Xander shook his head. "Not me; I've done a lot of foolish things. It'd be difficult to even begin to explain. Some of the things I know..."

"I know, I know. They would shock me. You young people always seem to think that you're inventing some new form of pain. Nothing is new since the beginning of time, Xander. Nothing changes that much. There is birth. There is love. There is death. That is life in all forms. But you, for your age, have nothing but worries and anxieties. You are just so moody and jumpy. It's been hard, hasn't it?"

"Very much so."

"I can't give you very much advice about that, for which I am very sorry. But you must know you have to follow your heart. You have a very loving heart. I'm pretty sure a heart like yours won't be led astray." Jennie smiled at him. "Okay, my candle's going out. I think you might want to get back to Gabriel's place."

Xander gave her a hug. "You are a gem, Jennie. I'm so glad I've got to spend time with you."

She returned the hug. "Don't let him train you too hard."

"Don't worry; I get better every time. Pretty soon I'll be teaching him a few things." Xander opened the window out the back and froze.

"What is it?"

"Peter; he's going into the bar again."

"Go talk to him."

"I, I don't know if I can."

"You can't avoid him forever."

Xander grimaced. "Don't I know it."

"It's time; just follow your heart."

Xander nodded as the lump in his throat moved about twelve inches in a downward direction. He barely whispered Peter's name and he fought back the urge to go running, crying, apologizing. Peter heard it; somewhere inside Peter heard it. He turned back towards the shadows and there was Xander, atop a fire escape. A part of him wanted to run towards the ladder; a part of him tried to pull him away. All he could do was inhale sharply and whisper Xander. Peter walked slowly; marching toward something unknown and humbling.

"Xander; I'm, I'm glad I ran into you. I guess forgetting my jacket in the truck has its bonus."

"I guess so."

"We miss you."

"Is that we you really mean to say?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?"

"Fainic misses you."

"Fine, then I'll say it. I miss you, Peter. I miss the way you tend my wounds. I miss the way you kissed me."

Peter pleaded with his eyes, looking up at Xander who was above him on the fire escape. "Xander, please come home."

Xander shook his head. "I can't; Gabriel is..."

"Please, listen to me; leave Gabriel alone. He's not good."

"Maybe you don't know all of him Peter."

"Maybe I do."

"If you want me to come back then you've got to tell me the truth."

"I can't even tell myself that, Xander."

"Then try."

All Peter could do was shake his head. "I, I have your stuff in the back of my truck. I was hoping I wouldn't have to give it to you."

"Oh."

"If you want, I can give you a lift back to his place."

"I'd like that." Xander placed his hand on Peter's arm. "I'd like that very much."

The stony silence mixed with sadness. Silence seemed to the edict for their truck rides. The building crept into view and Peter slowed into the open driveway.

"You sure this is what you want?"

Gabriel sauntered onto the front steps and Xander thought for a moment. "No, but there's a difference between what I want and what I need." Peter had an intense urge to wrap Xander in a hug and kiss him, take him away. But that was only for the movies. This was real life. Xander crawled out of the cab and grabbed his duffel.

"If you need me, I'm always around."

Xander attempted a half-hearted smile as he looked back at the truck. "I'll remember that."


	8. Chapter 8

_Wild Horses just couldn't drag me away_

_Wild Horses, We'll ride them someday_

"You can't possibly think you are ready to really face me."

"Gabriel, I've been fighting dummies, swinging tree branches, and various flying objects all week. If I'm not ready for you now; then I'll never be."

"There's a lot of heart to you, Xander Harris." Sylar put his hand to Xander's chest. "Now lets see if it's also in your blood." A pound of his fist sends Xander flying backwards. "The first rule of battling me is to never turn your back."

Xander uses a flying kick to turn himself upright. "Yeah, well my first rule is to never underestimate what you're fighting."

Two hours later; Alex can feel the soothing sting of the bathroom tile. His face wasn't touched or scarred, but his arms and thighs had taken quite a few beatings. Gabriel Grey must certainly have some of the strength of a vampire, Xander mused inwardly. The hissing sound of the water soothed his ears momentarily. They still pounded with the rush of blood. Gabe certainly knew enough about fighting, and other forms of entertainment. Xander had a feeling it wasn't just because he had seen it on tv either, but he couldn't put a finger on it. The hardest thing to imagine was that being close to Gabriel did something to him. It definitely wasn't love; there was no need to think that. He brought a handful of water up to his hair and cooled down his head while slicking back his raven locks.

"Come on, Xander," he whispered to himself, "what are you doing man? You used to have no trouble with guys like this. Maybe you've been away too long."

Gabriel slunk into the opening of the bathroom silently. "Been away from who?"

Xander jumped slightly as he noticed Slylar in the mirror. "You startled me, Gabriel."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. That takes a lot of talent to do. In fact, you seem to have quite a bit of talent."

Gabriel shrugged. "You're young; talent comes with experience. It does look like I got your forearm good though."

"Yeah; it's not very often someone uses a wrestling move on me. I don't think those muscles are quite used to it."

"But you do have some muscles you use quite often." He whispered the words into Xander's ears. He whispered them the way Angelus whispered to him once in the graveyard. Xander felt a chill come in from a non-existent breeze. He mumbled as he tried to cover up his blush.

"I don't know what you mean, Gabriel."

"There's no arguing that you are well-defined around your abs, and that's not normal for, how did Peter put it, a city boy?" Gabriel used his finger to slice a path through Xander's abs that send a chill into his spine.

Xander had trouble pushing the name from his mouth. Hell, Xander was human. Furthermore, Xander was male and when was the last time he had gotten this sort of attention? True, Gabriel was no Angel nor was he a Peter, but those eyes and those pecs. Xander could tell he was well-defined and those moments when Gabriel released his chest from his tank top, well, Xander couldn't be accused of anything but swooning just a little. Long ago, Xander had claimed he had mastered these urgings. Or so he had thought.

Xander leaned back into Gabe and felt the fur hit his back. It was so different from being with Angel. And, really, what was Xander waiting for anyways? Gabriel bit down and nuzzled Xander's neck. Xander could see in the mirror the outline of Gabriel's hand massaging his own cock in his pants and Xander's abs. He closed his eyes to let the senses overtake his emotions. It wasn't long before Xander's hands reached down and opened Gabriel's pants. His cock was stiff and his head and shaft resembled a sword. Gabriel murmured consent and Xander turned. His tongue began to swirl over Gabriel's head and then to take the meat inward. Angelus had taken his gag reflex, and so Gabriel's head arched backward as Xander began to take all of the shaft in. His breathing increased and his abs began to shake violently.

"Alexander." The word began to hiss forth and Xander held Gabriel's cock in his mouth. Something didn't feel right. Xander pushed back against the counter, but Gabriel wouldn't let him go. "Is there anything wrong?" Gabriel held the back of Xander's head and forced him to continue. Gabriel growled. "The second rule of being with me is to never let me get jealous." Gabriel let Alex's head go and threw him across the bathroom.

"What?" When had everything began to go downhill?

"I can hear you in the night. You moan his name. Who was Angel?"

Xander tried to disarm Gabriel by fluttering his hands around as though Angel had meant nothing. "He was no one, Gabriel. Just someone from the past."

Sylar snarled. "You let me get close; you tried to entrap me."

Xander was dumb-founded. "What?"

"Don't deny it. And for that; you will pay."

Xander's hands went to his throat as his vision started to go. He wasn't being strangled physically, but he could feel the strangling of his vocal chords and throat. "Gabriel?"

"My name was Gabriel. You can call me Sylar." The last thing Xander thought before he went unconscious was How strange can one life get?

Xander woke in those familiar silk sheets, but now they burned him. He was naked and Gabriel was nowhere to be found. Scratch that, Sylar was nowhere to be found. Xander sighed and made a mental checklist. Yes, he hurt somewhere only one person had gone before. Yes, Gabriel had had this weird violent lashing out. Yes, Xander did feel in danger. But would he panic?

As with Angelus; panic only induced pain. He'd have to play it cool. Here, there was no upper hand. Sylar wasn't a vulnerable person in the way Angelus had been. And he was definitely no angel, no pun intended. Xander had studied and fought with Gabriel for a while now, but there was still no weakness. He was tight and paranoid, over reactive. He was Glory without the godhood.

Xander sighed again. Long gone was his sense of shame about sex, but never gone was his sense of self-preservation. That was another thing about living on the Hell mouth, Xander supposed. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply; trying to send himself into a state of meditation. Meditation was one of those things he had done with Willow in Palisades and it had actually helped to clear his head. Now, he needed it more than ever. He needed a way out. It came to him, fuzzy at first. Peter's face close to earth as he stood atop a fire escape. The balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet came to mind, but Xander let the musing pass quickly. Now was most definitely not the time to imagine himself in funny Victorian tights. You said you'd always be around when I needed you. Now I need you. He didn't need to say the name. Peter would know the message was from him.

The field over at the West bridge Ranch filled with dust as Fainic pranced around. The wind was still like most days, but there was an overbearing in the air that did not go unnoticed. Peter watched with a malaise in his eyes. He hadn't been able to do much actual work and had actually drove himself to the point of sickness worrying about Xander.

He never should have let him out of that truck. But it wasn't my choice to make, he thought and shook his head. He replayed that night to himself so many times and each time he cringed a bit more at the silence. He had been that way with Elle, with Nathan, even with Matt and Molly. Why did he have to be this way? Fainic's pace came to a halt and his ears pricked up. Every muscle tensed and he snorted a neigh. Peter swore he heard the word warning.

Fainic began to race around the fence and splinter it. Each break alongside Fainic's muscles sent a bit more panic into Peter. Fainic never acted this way. And then he began to race outside of splinters and nudge Peter as he raced around the barn. He snorting was getting wild by the minute. Peter knew he didn't have the same knack Alex had, but needed to try to understand Fainic.

"I know I'm not him, but whatever it is I am here. I don't know how to talk with you or even comprehend, but there's something important going on?"

Fainic began prancing solely around Peter, as if Peter was the only one who could react. Is it about him?

Peter grabbed Fainic by the nostril. "Calm down. If it's about him; I need to know. You have to figure out a way to tell me. You're smarter than this. Just calm down and tell me." Xander's way had to work. It just had to.

Peter looked around and grabbed a piece of the broken fence. He snapped it off with a small bolt of frustration coursing through is body and it landed point up in the dusty prairie land. He tried to draw the word Xander, but the land was too hard-packed and parched. He continued to try looking around, when Fainic snorted.

"Do you understand?" Fainic suddenly stopped panicking and looked in Peter's eyes. He nodded once and then began to stamp in the ground. He stamped furiously and left four imprints in the ground. The four imprints formed an X.

Xander was being interrupted by a tap at the window. His mediation wasn't flowing clearly anymore. He blinked his left eye open to see if a wind had kicked up, but instead he saw something, well, incredible. A prairie dog stood at the window, using its nose to tap. How had a prairie dog gotten onto a second-story ledge? Xander was never one to second-guess help though and he supposed a prairie dog was better than nothing. Xander's legs were still a bit stiff, but he pushed open the window after taking a second to pop his knees. The prairie dog stood at the open window and waited; his beady eyes looking upward at Xander.

"Did you want to come in?" The prairie dog didn't understand, but instead nodded toward the wilderness. "I can't leave; I don't have anywhere left to go." The little animal began to swing his head from Xander to the wilderness through a game of 20 Questions. Xander might have understood horses, but didn't know the first thing about prairie dogs. The best guess he had was to follow the little varmint and hope Sylar didn't punish him too bad again. Sylar and Angelus might have been able to compare notes, but they'd still find Xander as unflappable as ever.

Xander moved out onto the minuscule ledge and watched the prairie dog scamper down the drain pipe. That was so not an option. Xander thought for a second and then undid his belt. At least Xander had the presence of mind to put on clothes before going outdoors. Liam, scratch that Gabriel, scratch that Sylar hadn't had the presence of mind to remove Xander's clothes from the room. Of course, a stake wouldn't do much good against him, but hey, pointy still worked right? Anyways, though Xander, how do I get to the ground without major injury? Well, further major injury? Xander took his belt and looped it around the underside of the ledge. His theory was to swing down monkey-style. In practice, his foot got caught in the unforgiving loop and he rolled onto his left shoulder, making a squishy sound. He was down, pleasant or not.

Xander moved quickly, following the imprint of the prairie dog until the prints stopped at a little mound. The prairie dog's twitching nose greeted Xander along with something else. A couple of flies had begun congregating around something near the entrance to the varmint's new home. His breath moved the bugs away and he saw what appeared to be a finger. Xander lifted the finger, intrigued.

"I see you've found what's left of Pastor Jesse."

"You're back Sylar." Xander didn't even bother to look in his direction, continuing to stare at the shadow over the object.

"Yes, and a better part of my handiwork. It seems as though someone who can perpetually regenerate does leave little pieces of himself lying around. But my absolute favorite part of it all? Having your bootprints all over the area of his death and finger prints all over his impaled head."

"You think I'm going to let you frame me?"

"I don't see how you have a choice. I own you. I'm stronger, faster, and smarter than you."

"That doesn't make you a better person."

"I don't have to be a better person."

"And that's where we disagree."

Sylar grabbed Xander by the scruff of the neck. "Get back in the house."

"I can't do that." Xander could feel Sylar's steamy breath pouring down his spine.

"I wasn't giving you an option, boy."

"You don't scare me Sylar."

"We'll see."

Xander countered the next punch to his bread basket with a hit to Sylar's nose. Sylar's laugh was nauseating to Xander. At least Angelus had had the good conscious to have a good evil laugh.

"So, you want to play rough?" Sylar's speed kicked up dust around Xander's body. Xander covered his eyes to keep the sand from getting in and found himself upside down and smacked into the tree within seconds. "Let's play then." Xander wasn't sure he would survive, but that hadn't mattered before.

"I've fought things far more devious than you Sylar." He righted himself against the tree. "Sure, I might not be as strong and I'm sure you'll beat me, but I'll make sure I take you to hell with me."

"Pretty words. They don't want to see my type in hell."

"I'll make sure to reserve you a room anyway." Somewhere on the back of Xander's neck; electricity entered the air. It was a fine difference to the atmosphere, but enough where Xander knew he would be safe. And he'd be winning this fight.

"You bore me."

Xander used a tree limb to fling himself head long at the approaching Sylar and he fell only about two feet short. Sylar, however, didn't have time to laugh. A large bolt of blue lightning filled the air and knocked Gabriel Grey right out of his evil socks. Xander heard the thud far past the entrance of the house. The battle had just begun. It looked as though thunder were following lightning. All Xander could see was the dust of the prairie cascading off a blurry brown figure. Peter stopped just short of where his old tire tracks lay.

"Cool entrance."

"Thanks, I've had some time to work on it."

Xander pulled Peter off of Fainic's back. Every dark word that Gabriel had whispered in his ear evaporated. Xander couldn't be sure he put much stock in anything, but no one could deny Peter had come in a horse. Wait. He had a car. "Sorry, I would have been here sooner," Peter said through Xander's hair as they were hugging, "but Angus is working on the truck. Damn thing broke down again."

"You could have come here being dragged by a dozen sparrows and I wouldn't question it."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence. Listen, I know I really bite at the emotion thing, but I couldn't tell..."

"I don't care about any of that. I just want you here. **And him gone."**

"I can't guarantee we'll win."

"That never stopped me before." The door was swinging from one hinge as Peter and Xander walked into the courtyard. Half of Gabriel's face was healing and most of his hair was in disarray. His shirt was torn and dusty but he was smiling.

"It will be such a pleasure to add you to my collection finally Petrelli. And you, Harris, so much talent and skill. It will be an honor to put something more than my cock in that mouth of yours."

Peter looked at Xander. Xander looked at Peter. "Don't even ask. You already have it." Peter grabbed Xander's hand.

"Isn't that sweet? You've made up. Too bad you won't be leaving this house again."

Peter stood his ground, defiantly searing his hatred through his eyeballs toward Sylar. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Sylar, but we have no intention of losing. I'm going to finish what started half a decade ago."

"Hiro couldn't kill me. Maya couldn't kill me. Mohinder couldn't kill me. What makes you think you'll do better your second time around, Peter? You and some puppy from the city with nothing special about him but his sarcasm."

"You are more wrong than you know."

"We'll see." Sylar flew at them from the top of the stairs. Lights seemed to echo in the darkness and Peter's hand grasped tighter at Xander. I'll never lose him again. Next to Peter in the dark, Xander could sense the danger coming. His hand reached around to Peter's waist and used him as leverage. Peter swung Xander around.

"I can smell you Sylar." Xander's left heel made contact with a beam that sent him flying into Peter. His right foot connected with the beam that luckily did hit something, but not before the lights came back on and Peter noticed a slight rip in his right bicep. There, once again, was Sylar. Sylar with a black eye.

"So, the darkness doesn't bind you."

Xander felt snarky. "Sorry to disappoint, but that was sad. I've faced more threatening napkins than you before."

"Hollow words from a big mouth." The light went out again and the door seemed to seal itself shut.

Peter whispered. "I could just destroy the house around us."

Xander shook his head. "I wish it were that easy. The integrity of the house itself would send the stairs right in our direction. Just wait for your chance. **Sylar!"**

The lights flicked on again. "I'm still right here. Alexander, would you like to know what my power is?"

"I can't wait to hear it." Xander intoned flatly.

"You see, I am kind of like a psychic leech. I gain power by destroying and eating the brains of others like myself. Now, Peter can fill you in on the details later, he got great satisfaction from drawing out the last word, but this little do-gooding band in New York thought they had destroyed me. But I was found by this woman who had an extraordinary power. And this power was hers."

Five separate and yet identical Sylars lined the stairs and balcony, seperating and drifting from the original. Xander was indeed fresh out of ideas, but when two of them descended upon Peter; an idea sprung in his brain. They may not be vampires, but point will at least hold them off. Xander leaped for the stairs and the two goons followed. Two more Sylars didn't have the chance to leap at Peter. His bolts of concentrated blue anger flung out at them.

"Come out and fight coward!" Peter bellowed.

"You'll find that I'm just as capable in five pieces as one!" Two synchronized Sylars dragged Peter down and began kicking him. The fifth Sylar raised a fist high, full of some shards of glass. The first grazed Peter's ear as he was being held down. "Let's see how you like having glass flung at you!" A commotion erupted from the bedroom as one of Sylar's hands flew onto Peter's face. The piece of glass intended for his eye socket was stopped flat by Sylar's hand.

"You may not be a vampire and I sure as hell don't know what you are, but there's one thing that never fails. Mr. Pointy."

Xander leapt with all his strength and dived for the chandelier. Sylar's goons were distracted long enough that Peter rolled onto one and sent the other flying into Xander. Xander's foot grabbed Sylar's head and flung the copy into the wall. Xander landed feet from where he'd been moments earlier with one big difference. Five Sylars leaked back into two.

"Fine. I'll do this myself." The two halves of Sylar's ego ran down at Peter and Xander from what was left of the main balcony. Xander pushed Peter back and dove to his knees. Hoisting himself up with the grace of a hyena into a split v; he began to spin and kick. For the first time in two days, he concentrated on the feeling of strength, the electricity that Fainic gave him. And with all his heart he believed. The beast inside him came. The love that he felt for Angel, for Willow, and now for Peter guided him. Sylar fought strong and fast. Peter's bolts put him on edge.

Xander looked poised to win when he was clotheslined by the pair and began to lose oxygen. His face grimaced and turned red. He nodded and closed his eyes. The second shot of lightning Peter had ever fired at Xander hit past his cheek again. It was just enough to send the second Sylar melting, panting into the one on top of the stairs. The stairs themselves shook and groaned.

Xander didn't get away in time before it collapsed with Sylar astride him. Sylar rose from the rubble first. He was covered with gray dust and splinters, but he was laughing. Peter stood still and horrified. He pictured the look Anne would have. He pictured Matt and Molly dead on the floor. He saw himself dying alongside Xander. The last place he would feel safe. But Sylar's victory was not short-lived. A piece of cement collided with the back of his skull as Xander smashed forward into him. Sylar was stunned and jarred.

"That should have killed you."

"That's one thing you villains never seem to get. Good never dies."

"The world is grey." Sylar tried his best to hiss seductively in Xander's ear. "Why fight amongst ourselves? We could have it all."

"No thanks Magneto." Sylar's knees gave out under the weight of injuries. He might have had the power, but Sylar was no fighter without it. "Do you trust me?"

Peter nodded. "Always."

"Then fire." A bolt of lighting aimed right for Xander's head missed by inches as he jumped and caught the skeleton beam of the balcony. Sylar caught the beam of light and fell backwards. The last words he heard before he felt the rush the death from Xander's stake. "My name is not Alexander."

Twilight was dwelling as they exited the house; both slightly bloody and limping. But they were together and they had won. Neither could talk nor felt the adrenaline winning usually brought. All Xander could do to stop from entering into complete exhaustion was knowing and feeling Peter right beside him. Fainic was still waiting; he pressed his nose to Xander's face and Xander smiled.

Peter spoke gently, haggardly. "You have a little scar right above your brow."

"It's another long story."

"I've got the feeling there's quite a few of those."

"Does that scare you?"

Peter nuzzled into Xander as he hoisted himself up onto Fainic. "I don't know if I'll ever be scared again Xander." They stopped near a mesa; time and hunger being relative. Fainic allowed his legs to fold and he began to snooze.

Xander whispered in his ear. "Thank you, for everything." Xander brought the dusty water to his lips. It was cool and amazing. He drank the stars in amongst the reflection of the water. "This is something you just don't see in LA."

"You're right. And I bet L.A.'s never seen anything like this." Peter sat, shirtless, tending his cuts with pieces of fabric.

"LA doesn't deserve to see something like you." Peter tried his best to remain stoic, but his eyes began to see the world again. Here, where the flat earth met a deep, dark twinkling sky; Peter began to let the veils of time of distrust lift. He saw Xander as part of the sky; his hair connecting to parts of Orion and and what he thought was Aires. Xander bent down and pressed his lips to the cut on his forearm. A small hiss from the need he felt escaped his lips. Xander propped his arm so he lay between Peter and allowed the arm to fall over his abs. Only this time it felt natural. Peter stroked each scar Xander had with a tender and inquisitive nature.

He spent time finding out what made Xander burn with desire. He allowed himself the same. Xander reached into his ribs and Peter allowed himself to fall back being lightly tickled. Peter allowed himself a moment of lust and reached forward to kiss Xander. Xander took Peter's shoulder and saw his dark hair matching with the sky, his eyes reflecting the earth and he grabbed onto his shoulder blades as they kissed. Xander grasped for whatever it was that would save him from the memory of Angel, the haunting of his own mistake. There was forgiveness and reality in Peter's touch. Peter's fingertips lightly undid Xander's zipper and Peter's jeans flew off. Through his boxers; Xander's hands mastered the ability to make Peter groan and heave in ecstasy over Xander. They were naked and meshing soon after.

The words that echoed in the empty caverns of the prairie were filled with real and honest satisfaction. Peter inserted his cock in Xander and felt Xander shiver with lust. The tempo was slow and seductive as Peter pumped and reached down to kiss Xander's neck. Xander brought his hand to Peter's back and the thrusting continued as lust melted into love and need. Xander was part of Peter's heart and Peter the same for Xander. They came at the same moment on Xander's ribs and they lay there stroking each other and coaxing themselves into oblivion until first light. As the dawn began showing; Peter stood and reached for his discarded jeans. They'd return just briefly for what they would need. Then Peter and Xander would be off for wherever life would lead them. The difference was that they would be together. And being together might mean they'd have a chance for that elusive thing, happiness.

"I want to take you to meet someone. You said you'd never been to New York. I have a friend there that you might like to meet. Her name is Elle."


End file.
